To enhance the security of their communication, Jide left the phone in the discreet possession of a spotter, skillfully camouflaged as an alcoholic beverages seller in a village near the forest. This spotter not only acted as a strategic link but also held a vital role in providing early warnings of any potential threat. The instructions given to the spotter included a protocol for discreetly signaling if security forces were approaching the hidden camp.

This meticulous approach to communication underscored Jide's commitment to maintaining operational security, minimizing the risks associated with their illicit activities. 

The orchestrated coordination between Jide and Chief Ikpa, facilitated by the discreet phone and the vigilant spotter, became a critical element in the success and sustainability of their covert operations.

"It's time," Jide said to his second in command Uba. "Take over."

Uba was a convicted felon who was serving life for armed robbery and murder.

Their paths had crossed during one of Chief Ikpa's attempt to become governor and Jide had been impressed with Uba's ruthlessness and efficiency.

He was the first name on Jide's shopping list during the prison break.

"Yes boss," Uba replied.

Enticed by the tantalizing promise of a five million naira payday and the lifeline to escape an impending incarceration within the confines of a federal correctional facility, Uba exhibited a profound willingness to engage in any tasks or endeavors that Jide might lay before him. 

The weight of the offered reward, coupled with the looming threat of a confined future, propelled Uba into a state of unwavering resolve, prepared to undertake whatever actions or responsibilities were deemed necessary by Jide to secure both financial gain and his liberty.

Jide carefully retrieved one of the motorcycles cunningly concealed in the vicinity, the engine roaring to life under his command. 

His familiarity with the intricacies of the forest terrain enabled him to chart a course that never repeated the same path, weaving through the dense foliage with a nuanced understanding of the landscape.

As the engine's growl echoed through the wooded expanse, Jide's sentries strategically positioned around the forest acted as vigilant guardians. These watchful enforcers carried out their duties with unyielding determination, swiftly and ruthlessly addressing any encroachment by hunters or unwitting trespassers who dared to venture too close to their clandestine hideout. 

Nwokedi's establishment, nestled within the heart of the village, thrived as a bustling hub of daily life. 

From dawn till dusk, a steady stream of villagers and construction workers engaged in the symphony of activity that surrounded his alcoholic beverages shop. 

The rhythmic sounds of clinking glasses and hearty laughter echoed through the air each evening, as the hardworking laborers, dust-laden from the day's toil on the new highway, sought solace and camaraderie within the welcoming walls of Nwokedi's haven. 

It wasn't merely a place to procure libations; it had evolved into a social nexus, knitting together the fabric of community through shared stories, exchanged laughter, and the comforting warmth of companionship in the fading daylight.

In the midst of the lively atmosphere, Jide seamlessly integrated into the tapestry of Nwokedi's shop. 

Among the regulars, he effortlessly assumed the role of an okada rider from the neighboring village, skillfully blending in with the diverse personalities that frequented the establishment. 

As conversations flowed like the evening breeze, Jide forged connections and even genuine friendships, his laughter becoming a harmonious note in the communal symphony that resonated within those walls. 

His ability to play the part with authenticity eliminated any suspicious of his true identity and purpose.

Nwokedi, attuned to the subtle nuances of the gathering, approached Jide's table with the familiarity of a confidant. 

With a deft and discreet motion, he placed Jide's regular order on the table, concealing a small mobile phone amidst the clink of glasses and the laughter-filled ambiance. 

The clandestine exchange went unnoticed by the patrons who were more interested in the comforts they sought at the bottom of the bottle than a common okada rider's beer.

The dimly lit bar hummed with activity as Jide skillfully popped open the beer, the effervescence releasing a subtle fizz. With a nonchalant air, he maneuvered through the animated crowd, his destination clear – a secluded corner away from the boisterous patrons. As he distanced himself from the pulsating heartbeat of the bar, the ambient noise gradually mellowed.

Leaning against the worn brick wall, Jide retrieved his phone and dialled the only number in the contact list. It was a number Chief Ikpa had shared with him earlier. With a deft touch, he dialed the digits, the rhythmic tapping of the keys contrasting with the distant laughter and clinking glasses. Each second seemed to elongate as he held the phone to his ear, the anticipation mounting with each passing moment.

As the call connected, the ambient sounds of the bar faded into the background, replaced by the hushed tones of the conversation on the other end. 

In this secluded alcove, Jide engaged in a dialogue that held the promise of secrets and unfolded against the backdrop of the still-present murmur of the distant bar patrons.

The new mission was going to be their biggest, Chief Ikpa told him.

"We're almost at the end of this journey," Ikpa told him. "Soon you'll initiate the ending protocol."

"I understand sir."

The "ending protocol" was the last lap of the mission. 

Chief Ikpa made it clear that the criminals were not to be allowed to return to normal society after the mission was over. 

Jide was supposed to prepare their meal with a poison substance then leak their location to security forces.

Jide's travel documents have long been procured and in his possession. He would be reunited with his family abroad as soon as he carried out the "ending protocol".

He couldn't wait for the mission to be over so he could retire peacefully and spend the money he had made.

He knew where the other criminals kept the five million naira they had each been paid by Chief Ikpa.

Jide's cautionary warning reverberated through the clandestine camp, urging the criminals to forsake conventional channels of banking and external contacts to evade detection. 

In a strategic pact, they consented to the directive, opting to safeguard their ill-gotten gains within the confines of a makeshift storage unit nestled within the camp's boundaries.

The agreement formed a crucial component of their elusive operations, amplifying the secrecy that cloaked their criminal endeavors. 

The decision to pool their funds and ransoms within the makeshift stores added an air of unity to their illicit pursuits, solidifying the criminal fraternity's commitment to mutual protection and shared interests.

As the stakes escalated within the hidden confines of their camp, the makeshift stores became repositories of not just wealth but also a symbol of the criminals' collective trust. 

Each stack of currency and every hoarded ransom reinforced the unspoken bond forged by their adherence to Jide's cautionary counsel. 

Yet, unknown to them, the impending "ending protocol" cast a looming shadow over the very foundations of their carefully guarded sanctuary.

Returning to the bar, Jide nonchalantly placed the phone on the table in front of him, a silent signal for Nwokedi to retrieve it later. 

With the instructions for the next assignment received, he seamlessly integrated into the vibrant atmosphere, immersing himself in the lively conversations and clinking glasses.

Over the next two hours, Jide indulged in the camaraderie of the bar patrons, the rhythmic ebb and flow of discussions punctuated by sips of his drink. The air buzzed with shared laughter and anecdotes, providing a temporary respite from the covert nature of his mission.

As he navigated the social currents of the bar, Jide skillfully blended into the tapestry of animated interactions, concealing the weight of the impending "ending protocol" beneath the facade of casual banter. 

The bar, once a backdrop for clandestine calls and secretive discussions, now served as a sanctuary of normalcy where Jide could momentarily set aside the burdens of his covert responsibilities.

The end was close, he thought to himself as he gulped down his beer.