Under Pressure

They are not mincing words. Mr. Samuel Ike foundout that out in a hard way. In fact, there are no much difference between chameleon, tiger and humans after staying only 45 minutes in this last minutes he finished with these people he had believed were in the same boat with him. He sat in his office, an 11 by 12 square room with table, chairs and books. Shelves of morden quality, quality books many came from abroad direct he is proud of and never hesitated in marketing to his friends and visitors but right now, this very moment, he wasn't thinking about office, table, and books he has not learnt anything worthwhile from considering the spot he is in that moment but how to remain afloat in many aspects of his living is his preoccupation. 

He on behalf if his tribe had been in contact with people of neigboring tribe he had believed were in the same boat with them against another tribe they are trying to push to a corner, marginalize only to findout that the secrets are not always what they seen to be. Infact, after people he had thought were under his control came out with to your face kind of instruction within minutes of the meeting, he knew this game is not getting friendler to him and people anymore. The rate sweats appear on their own on his forehead and the way he was finding it hard to breath well despite AC being on in his office, a place that have temporary lost its aesthetic appeal to him told him that his system is not working well or feeling comfortable too. 

His camp came after him. Rather, it was those he was in partnership with against common foe that came after him not his camp per say. What he had done he believed were secret between them, but was kept in cooler for months by his partners waiting to know how he deals with their interest as leader. The man had wanted the issue at hand to run itself to a halt but there is no sign of that happening from what he can see and his partners that has shown him in numerous ways that they are as guilty as pronounced is getting impatient. Desperation can be something else when it hits at wrong hours.

He had believed he was smart enough to enter into partnership with this tribal group he has found out were playing their own games within their agreed overall game. He seems to be fronted as rubber stamp to give their fibs and logic more credibility and now being manipulated and pressurized like a puppets. He had gone contrary to the rules and regulations of the games trying to findout the answer before everyone. Not always intelligent to be ahead of ones shadow especially when bucks don't stop entirely on ones table. Dispute settlers don't like people that cheats even when cheating is the cause of the dispute. Who would listen to a group that knows nothing but cheating as their only means of achieving anything. Now, those that came up with such suggestions that looked intelligent and enticing then is now laying the whole blame on his foot and his tribe as chairman and leader of their coorporation. He toiled with a pack of Cuban cigars sent to him by his coursemate. Open it rubbed his hands over it and instead of the satisfaction he usually get from romancing those Cigars, his agitation increased. He sighed loudly, slammed the lid closed, returned it to the drawer that has been its house for three months now and returned to mopping at nothing in particular. 

Even the field worker are playing games with him. It's evident to him that he isn't the one they work for. They kept juggling issues left, right and center, trying to force him that pay their salaries as leader to take the fall when it is evident to all that they would have wrapped up this issue of info gathering and analyzing since three years ago had his partners interest not at risk from the truth. The truth had been before them and they had been intentionally shifting left, right and center and the other tribe they are partnered against isn't sleeping either. They had been getting their acts together too and pointing correct fingers at the correct directions and now, his partners are getting agitated and this last sitting is indicator of how disturbed they are. How do one fight the truth that have refused to go under?

What they are demanding from him is too much thing to do. It's like being in-between the devil and the proverbial deep blue sea only that the sea in this case is gray in color yet, it isn't less dangerous in nature than blue one. He dabbed at his forehead oozing sweat, sighed once again, eyed the direction of standing AC and wondered why it's not performing when it is needed most. He recalled that the sweat that followed him from meeting place to his office has not abbated since, not the fault of the AC. The cost is too enormous for him and how to handle it had been his ordeal for hours now. His tribal people had taken the stand he believes is not the right route to follow, not easy route to follow. Some are even suspecting that their partners had been as guilty as the tribe they are after. Why certain utterances from them? Why are they pointing accusing fingers to their partner? This their pressure pilling is coming from fear of being discovered, he wondered if anyone is threatening them. Not always wise to spread oneslf too wide. 

He sat wiping for the umpteenth times his forehead dripping sweat and started doing a little calculations. What would be the best route to follow with less liability? What would be the best direction to turn to with assured security?, what would be the best route to follow with least......? He was furiously writing and churning out options and alternatives and was at it for about two hours without knowledge of time. Suddenly, it occured to him that he had instructed his secretary to be keeping record of what those field workers had been feeding his office each morning and concluded that his escape route would be somewhere inside those reports. 

"Bridget come in here promto" he boomed into the intercom that resounded into the outer office with emotion it was delivered. Few minutes later, a young women of about twenty-eight stood be him. "Sir"

"Yes, I want the record of all those reports field workers had been feeding this office since we came on board, I hope you had been keeping them as directed" "Yes Sir"

"Let me have them then. Be quick" the girl turned 180 and went out silently closing the door for she saw on the face of her boss that something else is disturbing his mind. Three minutes later when she appeared hauling three long notebooks with unrequested jug of cold water Mr Samuel never knew he wanted or requested for. He gulped down a glass hungrily, and eyed the young girl who was eyeing him with trepidation" sit down and start from day one to read all to me" he ordered.

The girl sat down and started reciting what she put down each morning email was sent to them on the issue. She had even been saving all the mail and faxes on the issue while at the same time recording them manually in a long note. 

After about three months issue had been read, Mr Samuel jotted about four pages of related and contradictory reports from those field workers - Miss Jane noticed that his facial images and overall demeanor were transforming to that of humans unlike what she had found difficult to place when she first entered the office. She kept reading and eyeing her master. As she read, the moment a smirk appeared on her master's face, she noted what elicited that smirk and did her math. After they read about a month's report more, his master raised a hand up and ordered her to stop. "It's enough for today, tomorrow we continued" the girl eyed him and silently went to her cubicle to do her own permutations.

When the secretary had closed the door behind her, Mr Samuel picked up his phone and called a number. After about five minutes of speaking in what appeared to sound like forgotten languages to anyone who might be eavesdropping, he dropped the phone, took another glass of cold water, and settled down to wait. The AC seems to have picked up.