Novels by Isaac Ifeanyi

Lyons double parked the blue sedan just outside a comfortably large house. Without waiting, he slipped out if the car and walked to the front the house -better to be seen as a visitor than a thief. He pushed the button that was wired to the inside of the house -doorbell. He pushed two times more. The latch clicked and the door opened. Standing by the door was Mrs Jensen Parker, Colonel Martin Parker’s wife. Lyons took a quick once-over on the woman. She had on a pair of blue jeans and a loose white tank-top. In her arms was a child, just a few months old.“I’m here to see the Colonel ma’am.” Lyons said, offering her a coy smile.She assessed Lyons. The gum he chewed spoiled his formal appearance. She studied him for full ten-seconds, quickly analyzing his odd appearance. “My husband didn’t tell me he was having a visitor.” She said looking past him to the blue sedan. Something about him made her uncomfortable.&ldq

Something sinister was going on in the mind of Major General William Robinson, and Colonel Martin Parker couldn’t help but wonder what it was. He watched the General lock his fingers together in a tight grip. His attention was on the paperweight that sat on a bunch of blank papers.The Colonel had never seen the General like this before. He was calm and collected, even in the face of death.Both men went a long way back. They had been cadets when they were about eighteen at that time, and they were best friends. About two years later, they were into the infantry units together, going on missions in several countries until fifteen years ago when William was given the post of Major General. It was only four years later that Martin was promoted to Colonel.Colonel Martin Parker understood the General almost better than any other person, and looking at the General now, he knew the man was cooking up something, and was going to be bad for the victim

Major General William Robinson stood next to an old man of eighty nine years. He watched the man pick a cigar from the pack and light it. Sitting in the old man’s lap was the Washington Chronicle, dated forty one years ago. The major headline was:SOLDIER SINGLE HANDEDLY NABS TERRORIST HEAD. And the man in the picture was Major General William Robinson back when he was twenty-five.The General wasn’t comfortable standing next to his father, Mr Atkinson Robinson. There was no love lost between the two of them.Atkinson sighed. He flipped the newspaper, looking for nothing in particular. “You know,” He started. “those were the days when you used to be something.” He put the cigar in his mouth and drew his breath gently. “I remember sitting in that old chair looking at the TV and smiling.” he looked at the General, smoke puffing out of his mouth as he spoke. “And I thought to myself: look at my boy doing something

A black Mercedes 4matic pulled up just in front of President Jeffery Robinson’s summer house in Lansing, Michigan. The woman that stepped out of the car wore a red clean cut gown that revealed a modest part of her legs and added more to her figure than necessary. She was beautiful, and she walked with such grace that made her look forty years younger than her fifty-nine.She walked into the over large summer house which was guarded heavily with agents in black suits. It made them look like spies in action movies. They were all too formal for her. To her, she was the classy girlfriend of the President of the United States, and he just couldn’t get tired of her. She had him wrapped around her finger, and they had managed to keep their relationship hidden from the press and the eyes of the people. It was safer that way.The inner walls of the house was decked with flowers, spanning from the top of the ceiling to the bottom of the floor, and expanding across th

It was cold, too cold.The weather had changed from bright blue to thick dark gray. Cory couldn’t understand what was going on. The house felt tight, he’d managed to escape from his father, and now, sitting behind the door, head buried in his knees, he didn’t know what to do. He cried. Crying was a worse option than any other course of action at this point.The door banged open, hitting him hard. His father had heard him. Cory felt strong arms pulling at him, dragging him out from behind the kitchen door. He was flung halfway across the kitchen, landing on the hard tiles, tears pouring from his eyes.There was a clatter.Just a few centimeters from him was a butcher knife, glistening in the dim light. Cory reached for it. His father staggered heavily towards him, a bottle of alcohol in his left hand, and a belt on the other. He drank the remaining bit of alcohol and flung the bottle away. Cory waited, shivering. He was sweating.H

Leigh woke up in partial darkness. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still gathered tightly against each other. The air tasted somewhat metallic, it was thin and cold. Leigh coughed.As she sat up, she saw Tyler crouching beside her, smiling, more like she tried to smile. The fright was clearly displayed on her face. Leigh took a quick glance around. Except for Cory who looked out into the trees, they were alone. Tyler had her first aid box open, syringe in hand. Leigh felt the sting in her right arm, she cringed. Touching her temples with her left arm, Leigh coughed again and stared at Tyler.“you blacked out.” Tyler said.“yeah I figured.”Tyler closed the first aid box and returned it to her bag. She stood and went to sit with Cory.“Where are the others?” Leigh asked, standing.“Searching.” Tyler replied. “Sam said they needed to make sure. The wounds are still to fresh on them.&rd