《Blood and Dust: The Last Shipment》


 The Wrong Place at the Right Time

    The bar was the kind of place where hope went to die.


    Dim lights, cracked leather seats, and a ceiling fan that creaked like it was gasping for its last breath. A single TV flickered above the counter, playing an old football match nobody cared about.


    Mike Otieno sat at the far end of the bar, rolling a bottle cap between his fingers. His drink sat untouched. Cheap whiskey. Burned on the way down, but he liked the reminder that he was still alive.


    The bartender, a grizzled man with a scar across his cheek, leaned in. "You hear about the latest disappearance?"


    Mike didn¡¯t look up. He¡¯d heard enough.


    "Another girl?"


    "Two," the bartender muttered. "Gone without a trace. Like the others."


    Mike exhaled through his nose, staring at the warped wooden counter. He wasn¡¯t here to play detective. He was just passing through.


    At least, that had been the plan.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Then the door opened, and trouble walked in wearing a leather jacket and a grin too sharp to be friendly.


    Felix.


    Mike¡¯s fingers stopped spinning the cap.


    Felix Onyango was the kind of man who could sell you a bullet with your own money. An old friend. A bad one.


    "Mike," Felix drawled, sliding into the seat across from him. "Still drinking the cheap stuff like a broke PI?"


    Mike sighed. "What do you want, Felix?"


    Felix smirked, flagging down the bartender with two fingers. "Relax, man. Can''t an old friend say hi?"


    Mike just stared.


    Felix chuckled. "Alright, alright. Business, then. I need a favor."


    Mike scoffed. "Not interested."


    Felix leaned in. "Even if it¡¯s about a certain missing person?"


    That got Mike¡¯s attention.


    Felix saw the shift, the flicker in his eyes, and smiled like a fisherman reeling in his catch.


    Mike pushed his drink aside. "Talk."


    Felix tapped the table. "You know Barasa?"


    Mike frowned. He knew the name. Ezekiel Barasa. The kind of man you only heard about in whispers. He owned half the corruption in Makueni¡ªguns, drugs, and people.


    Felix lowered his voice. "He''s got a shipment moving tonight. And it¡¯s not drugs."


    Mike¡¯s jaw clenched.


    "People," Felix said. "And one of them? Might be someone you¡¯re looking for."


    The bar suddenly felt hotter. The old ceiling fan groaned overhead, struggling to push the thick, humid air.


    Mike leaned back, eyes narrowing. "Why tell me?"


    Felix grinned, leaning in. "Because I know you, Mike. You can¡¯t ignore a fight."


    Mike exhaled slowly. He hated that Felix was right.


    But this time? It wasn¡¯t just a fight.


    It was a war.

 A Deal With The Devil

    Mike stared at Felix, trying to read between the lines. He never trusted a man who smiled while delivering bad news. Felix was smiling now.


    "You¡¯re lying," Mike said flatly.


    Felix shrugged, swirling his drink. "Maybe. But are you willing to take that chance?"


    Mike hated the way Felix played him. Always dangling just enough truth to make the bait irresistible. And damn it¡ªMike was already hooked.


    He pushed his glass aside. "Where¡¯s the shipment leaving from?"


    Felix smirked. "Ahh, see, that¡¯s the thing. It¡¯s complicated."


    "It always is."


    Felix leaned in, lowering his voice. "The convoy moves at midnight. I don¡¯t know the exact location, but I know the guy who does."


    Mike raised an eyebrow. "And let me guess. You want me to get it out of him?"


    Felix grinned. "Smart man."


    Mike exhaled slowly. "Who is he?"


    Felix glanced around before speaking. "Musa Dula. He¡¯s one of Barasa¡¯s couriers. Low-level, but he handles logistics. He¡¯s drinking at Kwa Juma¡¯s joint right now. If anyone knows where that shipment is going, it¡¯s him."You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Mike¡¯s stomach tightened. Kwa Juma¡¯s wasn¡¯t just any bar. It was a syndicate bar. The kind of place where you walked in with both eyes open and still missed the knife coming for your ribs.


    "You set me up, Felix?" Mike asked, voice low.


    Felix raised his hands in mock innocence. "Come on, Mike. You think I¡¯d do that to you?"


    "Yes."


    Felix laughed, standing up. "Just find Musa, get the info, and we¡¯re good. Simple."


    Mike scowled. "Nothing is ever simple."


    Felix slapped him on the back. "Then you better be ready for a long night."


    ---


    Kwa Juma¡¯s sat at the edge of town, wedged between a rundown garage and an abandoned hardware store. The neon sign flickered weakly, buzzing like an angry insect.


    Mike took a breath and stepped inside.


    The air was thick with cigarette smoke and the sour scent of cheap beer. A rumbling generator in the back provided just enough power to keep the lights dim and the music low.


    Mike moved through the crowd, scanning faces. He didn¡¯t have to look long.


    Musa Dula was exactly where Felix said he¡¯d be.


    A thin man with sharp cheekbones, Musa was hunched over a bottle, laughing with two men who looked like they broke kneecaps for a living.


    Mike walked to the bar, ordered a drink, and waited.


    He didn¡¯t have to wait long.


    Musa stood up, excused himself, and weaved through the tables toward the back. Bathroom break.


    Mike downed his drink and followed.


    The restroom was dark, a single bulb flickering above the cracked mirror. Musa was at the sink, splashing water on his face when he noticed Mike in the reflection.


    "Bathroom¡¯s occupied," Musa muttered.


    Mike locked the door. "Not for me."


    Musa turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell are you?"


    Mike stepped forward. "The guy who¡¯s gonna make your night very difficult."


    Musa snorted. "You think you¡¯re tough?"


    Mike didn¡¯t answer. He just grabbed Musa by the collar, slammed him against the wall, and twisted his arm behind his back.


    Musa yelped. "Alright! Alright!"


    Mike tightened his grip. "The shipment. Where¡¯s it going?"


    Musa¡¯s breath was ragged. "You have no idea who you¡¯re messing with¡ª"


    Mike applied more pressure. Musa gasped.


    "The old quarry road, outside town! Midnight!" Musa blurted. "That¡¯s all I know!"


    Mike held him there for a beat, listening for any lies.


    Then he let go.


    Musa crumpled to the floor, cradling his arm. "You¡¯re dead, man. You don¡¯t know what you just started."


    Mike adjusted his jacket. "Neither do they."


    And with that, he walked out.

 The Quarry Road Ambush

    Mike didn¡¯t believe in luck. If something went well, it was because you planned for it. If it didn¡¯t, you were either an idiot or someone else was playing you.


    Right now, he was feeling a lot like an idiot.


    He crouched behind an abandoned truck, staring at the dimly lit road ahead. The quarry road was a long, dusty stretch leading to nowhere¡ªperfect for an ambush. And yet, he was the one standing here with no plan, hoping Felix hadn¡¯t sold him a fairy tale.


    A soft crunch of gravel behind him made him freeze.


    Mike turned, slow and deliberate.


    Amina stood there, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.


    "You look like an idiot," she said.


    "Thanks for the support."


    She smirked. "Tell me again why you thought coming here alone was a good idea?"


    Mike sighed. "Because I didn¡¯t expect company."


    "Well, surprise," Amina said, stepping closer. "Felix called me."


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    Mike¡¯s jaw tightened. "That bastard."


    "Relax," Amina said. "He figured you¡¯d do something stupid and, shocker, he was right."


    Mike glanced back at the road. "This was supposed to be simple. Find the convoy, follow it, get intel."


    Amina rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because criminal operations always work on ¡®simple.¡¯"


    Mike ignored her, pulling binoculars from his jacket. "Convoy should be here any minute."


    Amina crouched beside him. "And then what? We just tail them like a couple of amateurs?"


    Mike didn¡¯t answer. Mostly because he didn¡¯t have a good one.


    Then, headlights appeared in the distance. Multiple.


    A convoy of three trucks rumbled down the road, flanked by two motorcycles. Dust billowed in their wake.


    Mike adjusted his grip on the binoculars. "There¡¯s our shipment."


    Amina leaned in. "Okay, genius. What¡¯s the plan?"


    Mike was about to respond when something felt off.


    The convoy slowed.


    Too soon.


    They weren¡¯t at the checkpoint yet.


    Mike¡¯s stomach sank. "They know we¡¯re here."


    Amina barely had time to react before the first gunshot shattered the night.


    The dust exploded around them as bullets ripped through the silence.


    "Shit!" Mike grabbed Amina and dove behind the truck as gunfire tore into the metal.


    Amina pulled her pistol. "THIS was your plan?!"


    Mike fumbled for his own gun. "I didn¡¯t expect them to be paranoid!"


    "You didn¡¯t expect¡ªoh my God, we¡¯re gonna die because you¡¯re an idiot!"


    Mike peeked around the truck and immediately ducked as a bullet grazed past. "We need a way out."


    Amina scanned the area. "The drainage tunnel¡ªleft side!"


    Mike followed her gaze. A narrow, concrete opening led under the road.


    "Great. Now how do we get there without getting ventilated?"


    Amina smirked. "Cover me."


    Before Mike could protest, she darted out, firing as she ran.


    Mike swore under his breath and followed.


    Bullets kicked up dirt behind them. Amina slid into the tunnel, and Mike dove in after her just as the gunfire intensified.


    They hit the ground, breathing hard.


    Mike glared at her. "Reckless much?"


    Amina grinned. "Says the guy who came here solo."


    Mike let out a breath. "Alright. New plan."


    Amina dusted herself off. "Yeah, let¡¯s start with ¡®not dying.¡¯"


    From outside, a voice shouted orders.


    "They¡¯re coming," Mike muttered.


    Amina checked her gun. "Good. I¡¯m just getting warmed up."


    And as the first footsteps echoed down the tunnel, Mike realized something.


    Felix had definitely set him up.


    And this was only the beginning.

 Snakes in the dark

    The footsteps grew louder.


    Mike and Amina crouched inside the drainage tunnel, backs against the damp concrete. The air was thick with dust and something worse¡ªthe smell of stagnant water.


    Mike wiped sweat off his forehead. "Remind me never to trust Felix again."


    Amina smirked. "Remind me never to trust you again."


    The men outside were spreading out, their voices low but urgent. They weren¡¯t just random guards. These were professionals. Killers.


    A flashlight beam swept across the tunnel entrance.


    Mike pulled Amina deeper into the shadows, pressing a finger to his lips.


    The beam lingered for a moment. Then¡ªfootsteps.


    They were coming in.


    Amina tapped Mike¡¯s shoulder and pointed at the darkness ahead. The tunnel stretched on for about fifty meters, leading out into the bushes. An escape.


    Mike nodded. "Slow and quiet."


    They moved, each step deliberate. Water sloshed around their ankles.


    Behind them, the first man entered. His boots scraped against the concrete. He muttered something in Swahili, his voice sharp.


    Mike glanced back. A silhouette filled the tunnel, gun in hand.


    No choice.


    Mike lunged.


    His elbow caught the guy¡¯s throat¡ªhard. The man choked, staggered, but didn¡¯t go down.


    Amina struck next, sweeping his legs. He hit the water with a grunt, and before he could react, she grabbed his head and slammed it against the tunnel wall.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Mike winced. "Jesus."


    Amina shrugged. "I told you, I¡¯m just getting warmed up."


    More voices. The others had heard the struggle.


    Mike grabbed the fallen man''s pistol and yanked Amina forward. "Time to run."


    They sprinted.


    The tunnel exit was just ahead¡ªmoonlight spilling in from the other side.


    Then¡ªa hiss.


    Mike skidded to a stop.


    A massive black mamba slithered across the tunnel floor, its scales shimmering in the faint light. It lifted its head, tongue flicking.


    Amina groaned. "Oh, come on."


    Behind them, footsteps. Ahead of them, a highly aggressive, extremely venomous snake.


    Mike sighed. "I hate my life."


    Amina pulled out her knife. "We jump over it on three."


    Mike didn¡¯t like the odds, but the odds weren¡¯t giving him a choice.


    "One," he whispered.


    "Two," Amina tensed.


    "Three!"


    They leaped.


    Mike swore he saw the snake strike as he flew over it. But he didn¡¯t stop¡ªhe landed, stumbled, and kept running.


    Amina landed cleaner, but there was no time to gloat.


    They burst out of the tunnel, tumbling into the grass.


    Gunfire erupted behind them, bullets ricocheting off the tunnel walls.


    Mike yanked Amina up, and they ran.


    The bushes swallowed them whole.


    For a moment, only the sounds of the night filled the air¡ªcrickets, the distant howl of a hyena, their own ragged breathing.


    Then¡ªsilence.


    They stopped near an old acacia tree.


    Amina bent over, hands on her knees. "Never. Again."


    Mike panted. "I¡¯m choosing my own jobs from now on."


    A rustle in the trees.


    They spun¡ªguns up.


    A shadow emerged.


    Felix.


    Looking way too smug for someone who just nearly got them killed.


    "Well," Felix said, grinning. "I see you survived."


    Mike glared at him. "We¡¯re gonna kill you."


    Felix chuckled. "Before or after you hear the really bad news?"


    Mike¡¯s stomach dropped.


    "Felix," he said slowly. "What did you do?"


    Felix¡¯s grin faded.


    "They know who you are," he said. "And they¡¯re coming for you."


    Silence.


    Mike glanced at Amina.


    Amina sighed. "Great. More running."


    And somewhere in the distance, gunfire cracked the night.


    Things were about to get a lot worse.

 The Price on Their Heads

    Mike wanted to punch Felix. Hard.


    Not just because of his smug face or the fact that he had nearly gotten them killed. No¡ªMike wanted to punch Felix because, despite everything, he knew the bastard was right.


    They weren¡¯t just in trouble.


    They were hunted.


    Amina crossed her arms. "Explain. Now."


    Felix sighed, wiping sweat off his brow. "You really wanna have this conversation here? In the open? With people literally hunting you?"


    A bullet tore through the leaves above them.


    Mike rolled his eyes. "Point taken. Move."


    They ran.


    Felix led them through the bush, dodging thorny branches and low-hanging acacia limbs. The night was too quiet. Even with their breathing and footsteps, something felt off.


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    Then it hit Mike.


    "No crickets," he muttered.


    Amina frowned. "What?"


    "No crickets," Mike repeated. "No insects. No rustling. Just us."


    Amina¡¯s eyes widened. They weren¡¯t alone.


    The moment the realization sank in, gunfire exploded.


    Mike dove behind a fallen log. Amina hit the ground beside him. Felix was already rolling into cover, cursing.


    "Snipers," Felix gritted. "At least two."


    Mike peeked. The muzzle flash from a distant hill gave them away.


    Amina groaned. "We¡¯re sitting ducks."


    Mike checked his stolen pistol. One bullet left.


    Felix pulled out a smoke grenade. "We move on three."


    Mike raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you carry smoke grenades?"


    Felix grinned. "Since I started hanging out with you."


    Amina smirked. "Smart man."


    Felix pulled the pin.


    "Three!"


    The grenade hit the ground, hissing white smoke.


    They bolted.


    Bullets whizzed past them, but the cover of the smoke gave them just enough time. Felix led them to a ditch, sliding in just as another round of shots rained down.


    Mike landed hard. "This night sucks."


    Amina dusted herself off. "You¡¯re telling me."


    Felix groaned. "You two done complaining? Because they¡¯re coming."


    Mike took a breath. "Felix. Who put the bounty on us?"


    Felix hesitated.


    Amina¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Felix."


    Felix sighed. "All of them."


    Mike¡¯s stomach tightened. "What do you mean ¡®all of them¡¯?"


    Felix exhaled. "The cartel. The militia. The corrupt cops. The smuggling syndicate. Someone spread a rumor that you¡ª" He pointed at Mike. "¡ªstole the shipment."


    Silence.


    Mike blinked. "That¡¯s insane. Why would¡ª"


    Then it clicked.


    The real thief was covering their tracks.


    Amina looked at Felix. "Who¡¯s behind it?"


    Felix hesitated. "I have a guess. But you¡¯re not gonna like it."


    Mike¡¯s heart pounded. "Try me."


    Felix met his gaze.


    "It¡¯s someone close to you."


    The words sent a chill down Mike¡¯s spine.


    "Someone in your circle," Felix added. "Someone you trust."


    Mike didn¡¯t speak. He didn¡¯t need to.


    His mind was already racing through the faces of everyone he knew.


    And the worst part?


    He had a bad feeling he already knew who it was.

 The Ghost in Their Ranks

    Mike felt the weight of Felix¡¯s words settle over him like a noose tightening around his neck.


    Someone close to him. Someone he trusted.


    He clenched his jaw, running through every possibility. The crew wasn¡¯t big¡ªAmina, Felix, Kamau, Eliza, and a few others who came and went.


    No one made sense.


    And yet, someone had set them up.


    Amina¡¯s voice cut through his thoughts. "We need to move. Now."


    Felix nodded. "There¡¯s a safehouse outside Emali. We can regroup there."


    Mike didn¡¯t like the sound of ¡®safehouse.¡¯ He had learned the hard way that safehouses were rarely safe.


    But they had no choice.


    They stuck to the shadows, weaving through the undergrowth, every step calculated. The gunmen were still out there, hunting.


    After twenty minutes, they reached a narrow dirt road. Felix crouched low, glancing around. "Truck comes through here every few hours. If we¡¯re lucky¡ª"


    Headlights appeared in the distance.


    Mike tensed. "Lucky¡¯s not really our thing."This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The truck rolled closer, an old Mitsubishi Canter, its paint peeling, loaded with sacks of what looked like charcoal.


    Felix grinned. "That¡¯s our ride."


    Mike frowned. "You arranged this?"


    Felix shrugged. "Sort of."


    Amina¡¯s glare could¡¯ve melted steel. "What does ¡®sort of¡¯ mean?"


    Felix didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he stepped onto the road and flagged the truck down.


    The driver¡ªa middle-aged man with tired eyes and a cigarette hanging from his lips¡ªslowed, frowning as he took in the trio.


    Felix walked up to the window, leaning in. "Tunakutana na boss huko mbele." (We¡¯re meeting the boss up ahead.)


    The driver exhaled a long stream of smoke. "Sina time ya shida." (I don¡¯t have time for problems.)


    Felix flashed a wad of cash.


    The driver sighed. "Panda haraka." (Get in quickly.)


    Mike didn¡¯t waste time. He and Amina hopped into the back, settling between sacks of charcoal. The truck rumbled forward.


    Amina nudged Mike. "Do you trust this?"


    Mike exhaled. "Right now, I trust anything that keeps us alive."


    Amina didn¡¯t look convinced.


    Felix climbed into the passenger seat, chatting casually with the driver. But Mike saw it¡ªthe tension in Felix¡¯s shoulders.


    Something was off.


    They drove in silence, the road bumpy beneath them. The night air was thick, the scent of dust and charcoal clinging to everything.


    Then¡ªheadlights appeared behind them.


    Mike stiffened.


    Amina cursed under her breath. "We¡¯re being followed."


    The truck picked up speed. The vehicle behind them¡ªa **black Land Cruiser Prado¡ª**stayed close, its high beams cutting through the night.


    Then¡ªthe first gunshot.


    Amina ducked. "Damn it!"


    The driver shouted something in Kikamba, slamming the gas pedal. The truck swerved, kicking up dust.


    Mike grabbed onto a wooden plank, keeping low. "Felix, tell me you planned for this!"


    Felix shouted back. "Not exactly!"


    The Land Cruiser accelerated, pulling up alongside them. A window rolled down¡ªa rifle barrel emerged.


    Mike didn¡¯t think. He grabbed one of the heavy charcoal sacks and hurled it.


    It slammed against the windshield, shattering glass. The driver lost control.


    The Land Cruiser swerved¡ªstraight into a ditch.


    Amina let out a breath. "That was¡ª"


    Then, a second car appeared.


    Black, tinted windows. Smooth, steady.


    More professionals.


    Amina¡¯s eyes darkened. "We have a real problem."


    Mike gritted his teeth. "We¡¯ve had a problem since this whole thing started."


    The new car pulled up beside them. The window rolled down.


    And inside¡ªa familiar face.


    Mike¡¯s breath caught.


    Amina went pale.


    Felix swore.


    Because sitting in that car, cool as ever, was someone they all knew.


    Someone who wasn¡¯t supposed to be there.


    And that¡¯s when Mike knew¡ªFelix had been right.


    The traitor was one of them.