The woman's voice hung in the air, a stark challenge to our carefully constructed facade. Her pistol remained trained on us, unwavering. In the dim light, I could make out the determined set of her jaw, the protective fire in her eyes. She was young, maybe in her early twenties, but there was a resilience about her that belied her age.
Mateo, ever the pragmatist, slowly raised his hands, his weapon still held loosely but clearly visible. I mirrored his movement, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. There was no point in escalating this. Not yet.
"We… we must have the wrong house," Mateo said, his voice calm and even, a practiced lie rolling smoothly off his tongue. "We were looking for… a Mr. Adebayo."
The woman's eyes narrowed further, her gaze sharp and assessing. A strand of hair had fallen across her forehead, and she unconsciously flicked it back with a movement that felt both defensive and resolute. "My father's name is Alade. And I don't believe you."
Her gaze flickered between Mateo and me, taking in our clothes, our posture, the silent tension that radiated from us. She wasn't a fool.
"Look, we apologize for the intrusion," I interjected, trying to keep my voice even despite the tremor in my hands. "We genuinely made a mistake. We'll leave now." I took a step back, the leather of my gloves creaking softly, hoping she would allow us to retreat. But she didn't flinch.
"Drop your weapons," she commanded, her voice gaining a sharper edge.
Mateo hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slowly lowered his pistol to the floor. I followed suit, the metallic thud echoing in the sudden silence.
"Now, who are you?" she pressed, her eyes still fixed on us.
We couldn't give her our real names, not after Silas's warnings. The new identities were meant to be our shields, however flimsy they now felt.
"My name is Daniel Hayes," I said, the alias feeling foreign on my tongue.
"And I'm Marcus Thorne," Mateo added.
"What do you want with my father?" she demanded, her voice trembling slightly now, fear beginning to mix with her defiance. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the pistol she'd retrieved from beside the bed.
We couldn't tell her the truth. It was too dangerous, for her and for us.
"We… we were given an address," I stammered, trying to come up with a plausible lie on the spot. "We were supposed to deliver… a package."
"A package?" she scoffed, a disbelieving laugh escaping her lips. "At this hour? Looking like… like you do?" Her gaze swept over our dark clothing.
The silence stretched, thick with suspicion and unspoken threats. I could feel Mateo's tension beside me, the coiled energy of a predator held in check. We were out of our element, caught in a situation we hadn't anticipated. Lambda's carefully laid plans had crumbled at the unexpected presence of a protective daughter.
Suddenly, a cough echoed from the bed. Mr. Alade stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked confused, disoriented.
"Aisha? What's going on?" he mumbled, his voice groggy with sleep.
The woman, Aisha, glanced quickly at her father, her grip on the pistol momentarily loosening. It was the opening Mateo needed.
In a swift, fluid movement, he lunged forward, his hand clamping down on Aisha's wrist, disarming her in a heartbeat. The pistol clattered to the floor. Before she could react, he had her pinned against the wall, his other hand covering her mouth.
My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic bird trapped in my ribcage. It had happened so fast. I hadn't expected Mateo to move so abruptly, so violently.
Aisha's eyes widened in terror, her muffled cries filling the small room. Mr. Alade, now fully awake, stared at the scene with a mixture of confusion and horror.
"Mateo, no!" I said, my voice tight with a rising panic. This wasn't part of the plan. This was spiraling out of control.
He glanced at me, his expression grim. "We don't have time for this, Hayes. We need to secure the target."
But looking at Aisha's terrified face, at the fear in her father's eyes, a wave of nausea washed over me. We were supposed to be professionals, not brutal thugs barging into people's homes.
"There has to be another way," I said, my voice strained.
Mateo's grip on Aisha tightened slightly. "There isn't. Not anymore."
The weight of our situation crashed down on me. We were trapped, bound by Lambda's orders and now by the unexpected presence of this woman. Whatever choice we thought we had, it felt like it was rapidly disappearing into the shadows of the Lagos night.