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Chapter One Hundred And Forty Seven
Author: Mmesoma
last update Last Updated: 2024-10-29 19:42:56

Sophia's desperation to leave the prison, was about to be answered, but who knows what the outcome might be? The thoughts of her leaving or escaping through any available means were filled in her heart, as she finds it difficult to divert her attention from such.

The universe finally smiled at her, when she woke up the next day, to hear the kind of news she had been waiting for.

A prison guard walked up to her and said.

“I have a message for you madam”.

She was filled with suspenseful thinking, and not knowing what to do or say. She thought another problem had been discovered again by the security agencies, not knowing that her secret prayers were about to be answered.

With the kind of thoughts running through her mind, she looked at the prison official, who was dressed in his appropriate brown uniform, and holding a rifle.

“Who are you and what do you want from me?”She asked.

“You don't need to know me? All you need to know is what I have to inform you” The man responded.

His face wa
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    Tension boiled in the air when Georgia's father, Mr. Joseph, padded into the courtroom. He seemed pale and wan, a long cry from the gregarious businessman he had previously been. His relationship with Armstrong, particularly in the defamation campaign against George, had forced him to confront the repercussions of his deeds.Under Ms. Davis, George's attorney,'s stern glare, Mr. Joseph moves uneasily and restlessly while seated at the defense table. Ms. Davis, a strong lady renowned for her piercing wit and unshakable commitment to her clients, did not take long to present her case."Mr. Joseph," she said in a loud and crisp voice, "you stand accused of collaborating with the notorious Daniel Armstrong to make up a defamatory documentary about my client, Mr. George Hopkins."The overweight attorney representing Mr. Joseph, whose face was always strained, cleared his throat. "Your Honour," he shot back. "Mr. Joseph was only acting based on facts he thought to be accurate. He was unawa

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    Still, a little bit of doubt gnawed at the margins of George's newly determined determination. Even when the obligations were paid off, a feeling of justice was still unsatisfied. There was a simmering sense that his uncles, now free men again, still had the capacity to cause problems. Yes, they were reprimanded, but leopards don't completely alter their spots. George still had a secret weapon in his sleeve—an ace that would eventually bring them to ruin. They may pretend to be sorry or show signs of humility, but he would see right through them. He was aware that their desire for riches and power persisted, like a ticking time bomb ready to go off.Meanwhile, another type of tension simmered in the air behind the antiseptic walls of the military jail. Seated opposite his imprisoned son Armstrong was a haggard man with a haunting expression in his eyes: Mr. Daniel Armstrong's father. The older Armstrong's eyes filled with tears, and the harsh fluorescent light glinted off them. Shame

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    Chapter One Hundred And Seventy Seven

    The military prison facility's impersonal white walls made Armstrong feel insignificant. The luxurious furnishings and soft carpeting from his former confinement cell have vanished. Here, concrete was king and the sole decoration was a single fluorescent bulb that flickered and gave him a sickly, ugly glow.His thoughts were filled with the picture of Mrs. Janeth's stern glare, a terrifying reminder of his demise. In his isolation, bitterness was a continual companion, eating away at him. That George, his own cousin, had turned him in was beyond shocking to him. It brought back memories of a carefree, youthful period of life. George, beaming and teasing, the familial tie appearing indestructible. But that George was long dead, long since replaced by a man whose sense of justice and duty had hardened him. When Armstrong was originally discovered engaging in questionable activities directed against the Hopkins Group, which was led by George's father at the time, pardon had been grante

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    The sound of gunshots reverberated around the deserted warehouse. Mrs. Janeth huddled behind a stack of boxes, her heart a frenzied drum solo on her ribs. Angry lights shooting from across the room revealed dust motes dancing in the air. George's security system, a well-oiled apparatus refined for just these kinds of circumstances, was engaged in a vicious dance with Armstrong's men.The sharp sting of cordite and the metallic flavour of gunpowder filled the air. Mrs Janeth heard bullets squeak past her head and sink into the corrugated metal walls with a horrible thud. The guttural roar of automatic guns and the anguished screams of the injured broke the staccato pattern of firing.Colonel Petrov and his tactical battalion proceeded with well-honed precision across the large, open area. Their motions were lethal and precise, like those of ghosts in the shadows. Their guns fired in short, deliberate bursts that quickly and precisely neutralised Armstrong's soldiers. The sound of metal