The morning after the victory party, the executive office of the Apapa Eagle Shipping terminal was in total operational chaos. Stacked cardboard boxes, premium leather travel luggage, and encrypted satellite server drives were being packed by harbor details [INDEX].Adekunle stood by the glass window, looking sharp in a fresh, unbuttoned white designer shirt, his gold watch catching the morning sun. He was reviewing the international flight manifests on his tablet when the heavy double doors of the office were violently kicked open."Chief pikin! What is the meaning of this corporate format?!" Sledge stormed into the office, looking completely disoriented. He was holding a small, pristine green booklet in his massive, calloused hand like it was a piece of dangerous military explosive. "Corporal Titus just drag me go one office, shave my thumbprint, and hand me this paper! He say na 'International Passport' and 'UK Visa'! He say we dey board private jet fly enter London by 2:00 PM!"Adekunle let out a low, smooth chuckle, not even turning around from the window. "Sledge, relax your radar. I told you last night, the war don leave the Lagos trenches [INDEX]. Valerie's old syndicate board members in London are still tracking our finance [INDEX]. We are moving the entire international logistics headquarters straight to the United Kingdom to lock down the global routing keys face-to-face [INDEX].""London?! As in, Oyinbo country?!" Sledge's jaw practically dropped into the sawdust floor, his eyes wide with pure, chaotic street shock. He aggressively bit into a fresh piece of bitter kola, waving the passport frantically [INDEX]. "Tar! Chief pikin, you want make I leave my mainland kingdom follow you go inside freezing weather? Kazeem tell me say out there, the rain dey fall like ice, and common sun no dey shine for three months! How person go take survive without correct pepper soup and local amala?!""You will survive because you are my head of security, Sledge," Adekunle said, finally turning around, his eyes narrowing into two blocks of cold, absolute dominance [INDEX]. "I don't use my family or my operations play [INDEX]. I am carrying Amina along because General Bello's shadow remnants can still target the mainland mansion if we leave her behind [INDEX]. You, me, and Amina are moving as an unbreakable iron shield. Pack your bags."Right on cue, Amina walked into the office, trailing a sleek, luxury white designer suitcase. She was wearing a beautiful, calm local attire, her face glowing with a mixture of nervous excitement and relief."Brother, everything is fully packed," Amina said, walking up to adjust the collar of Adekunle's shirt, her gentle voice instantly softening the heavy corporate tension in the room [INDEX]. "But are you sure Sledge won't cause a national security scandal at the London airport? Look at his chest rig."Adekunle looked over at Sledge. The street lord was currently trying to force a heavy, silver-plated automatic pistol and a local iron rod inside the secret pocket of his massive, heavily embroidered native agbada jacket [INDEX]."Sledge, drop the iron rod," Adekunle muttered, rubbing his temples. "The private jet has automatic weapon storage. You cannot walk through British immigration looking like a warlord.""Chief pikin, a real trenches soldier no dey lose guard!" Sledge grumbled, but he reluctantly pulled the heavy weapons out and tossed them onto the executive desk [INDEX]. He adjusted his agbada, looking down at his passport photo with a sudden, prideful grin. "But look the geometry of the photo sha. The packaging clean normal. London big men go know say correct Mainland kingpin don land their sector!"Adekunle smiled a cold, predatory smirk—the exact expression of a tiger preparing to occupy a fresh jungle [INDEX]. He pulled his charcoal-grey billionaire overcoat over his shoulders, locking his tablet inside his briefcase [INDEX].The local streets had been completely conquered, the uneducated novice was inside a military cell, and Chief Solomon was holding the golden staff of the national army [INDEX]. The foundation was rock-solid."Oya, move your legs," Adekunle commanded, leading his sister and his rugged street commander out toward the waiting armored G-Wagons [INDEX]. "The jet is idling on the runway. Let's go and show the global syndicate how the Mainland dictates the international script."
