The Regional train stopped me at an underground platform where it was difficult for me to locate where I left Kate. The French had newly introduced a ticketing system where your ticket was the key card that opened the small entrance and exit gates to the platforms. But since i had a ticket, i had opened the gate with it and to my surprise, two Arabic guys jumped out with me. The Cops guarding the area had stopped me since i didn’t run away like the Arabs who already knew they committed an offence. I was asked to show my ticket and when i did, they asked why i allowed the two people to come out with me. “I didn’t even know they were behind me. As you can see, they are middle East men and i am from Africa. I carry my ticket with me at all times. I am not with them” I said. The useless racists wrote my names and resident permit number down before handing me back my documents. I had to miss my direction twice before i came out to the place i left Kate; She was no longer there. Damn! As i brought out her phone from my pocket to check if there was anything i could come up with on how to reach her, a text message came in from Aunty F. “Where are you people now?” it said. Great. How couldn’t i have thought about using Kate’s phone to control Aunty F? I walked into the place i left Kate and wrote a reply message. “He called me now and said he left McDonald and went to Magenta. I am going down to meet him in Magenta”. After reviewing the message, i changed Magenta to St. Lazare Station and sent it. Magenta was too close and since i wasn’t sure where Kate was, i didn’t know how long i was going to wait at the Gare. It was unthinkable to even consider leaving without her. I wasn’t going to leave Paris alone. I had come there to make one last deal and whether it was Kate or someone else, I was going to leave with someone. St. Lazare Station was far from Gare Du Nord. It would take Aunty F quite some 30 minutes to get there. That would give me enough time to do whatever i wanted to do in the large Gare Du Nord. I was also required to be careful because i didn’t know how many people that were already involved in the chase against me. Ernest and one other thug had been called to help track me down. Aunty Franca was the first woman i took her girl in Paris. She paid for her, though not much but she didn’t get the girl back. It was Naomi back then whom i sent out of Paris. “I left a girl here about 40 minutes ago, do you know where she went?” I asked the Coffee seller. She said she saw the girl sitting alone in the shop but didn’t know when she left. I walked to the ticket counter near the exit and checked for Kate there but she was nowhere to be found. It was a pity she left without my knowledge. I felt i was the cause but she played a major role in what happened to her. It was she who started contacting Aunty Franca. Although she didn’t know we had a history but that didn’t change the fact. Loitering around a huge Station such as Gare Du Nord was becoming dangerous and suspicious. I was sure the CCTV cameras were following me everywhere and it was just a matter of time before security operatives stopped me for questioning. The Military were the ones guarding the Station. It was approved by the government immediately after London and Madrid Train Station bombings by terrorists. Since i felt that The searching thugs must have gone to St. Lazare Station, I walked out of Gare Du Nord and took a cab to a hotel near Marcadet. I knew the irate girls of the past night must still be at home by that time of the day. They usually started to converge late in the evening. As soon as i settled down in the hotel, Madam Model called. She said she was returning to Paris since i have decided to make a fool of her by sending her on a goose chase. She threatened with Olokun and other unknown deities but who cared. Whether it was Olokun who ended up killing me or something else, what was going to be the difference? Chike called from Amsterdam too. He said the woman has left but that he tried to convince her to spend one more night. He asked if his remaining 1000 would be sent to him or paid when i returned; i didn’t answer that silly question before cutting the call. For the rest of the day, i did nothing except that i went out of the hotel to eat at a French restaurant where they ate white rice with milk. What can we not see in France. I also took two glasses of old red wine that tasted so good. The Young French girl who sold the wine to me got interested and started a chat with me. She said she would like to visit Africa on Holidays but said it was going to be in Abidjan. We chatted for two hours before i took her phone number and returned to the hotel. I decided to stay close to Marcadet because i knew Kate came from there the previous night. If i was lucky, she could come out again that night but i also decided that if i didn’t see her there, i would go to La Defense and check on Tina. If none of them worked out, i would try my resolve on another teenage girl. It was around 8pm, when i finally came out of the hotel room and went to a Camerounian bar nearby. I met Joe, a camerounian guy who was drinking there before i arrived. I had some plans on how to use him to get to Kate since i wasn’t going to venture into the area by myself. After buying Joe a few bottles of beer, i told him that i wanted him to do something for me. I gave him details of the Job and the Hotel where i lodged. “Her name is Kate. When you get there, try to locate her. She is tall and Yellow and was wearing blue top and blue pants when last i saw her today. If we are lucky, she must still be putting on the clothes” I said. After briefing Joe, I gave him 50 Euros and told him to call me as soon as they got to the hotel bar. When Joe left, i called Maria and talked some more with her. She said she got the money and has paid for an apartment of her own. She also said her friend was a bitch.
Well I knew she was a bitch from day one.
In Appreciation to the lovely Life on the Run Whatsapp group who celebrated my birthday today with A drawing picture frame of me, My favourite Poison Jack Daniels and above all a Special Cake; my first ever birthday cake.