What can I say? This has been one hell of a ride! The Dead Eyes brought absolute terror to these poor folks with their inexplicable cruelty, but they’ve had their comeuppance. Let’s see what the aftermath of this hostage situation leads to…

News Anchor on CNN:

“Good evening. Tensions are rising between the United States and Ghana following the harrowing hostage crisis in Sekondi. Dr. Jed Murphy, a world-renowned American environmental scientist, remains in critical condition after being severely injured during the rescue mission. While they survived, U.S. officials have strongly criticized Ghanaian authorities for what they describe as ‘serious lapses in crisis management.’ The White House has called for a comprehensive investigation into the incident, offering to send FBI and military experts to assist.

In a statement earlier today, the State Department warned that future U.S. aid to Ghana could be reviewed if immediate security reforms are not implemented. Meanwhile, questions are being raised about how the attackers, a terrorist group known as the Dead Eyes, operated so freely within Ghana’s borders. We’ll continue to monitor this developing story.”

News Anchor on BBC News:

“A diplomatic row is brewing tonight between the United Kingdom and Ghana after the renowned journalist, Max Abu, tragically lost his life in the recent hostage crisis in Sekondi. Prime Minister David Lawrie has described the incident as ‘completely unacceptable,’ demanding a thorough, independent investigation.

In a pointed statement, the UK Foreign Office announced that all bilateral trade talks with Ghana will be temporarily suspended, pending accountability for what it called ‘a catastrophic failure of security.’

The government has also issued a travel advisory, urging British citizens to avoid non-essential travel to Ghana. Ghanaian authorities have yet to respond to these growing international criticisms, but pressure is mounting from multiple nations affected by this tragic event.”

News Anchor on Televisa Noticias:

“Shock and grief have gripped Mexico tonight as the esteemed human rights advocate, Francisca Martinez, was confirmed among the fatalities in the Sekondi hostage crisis in Ghana. The victim’s family is demanding justice, while the Mexican government has summoned Ghana’s ambassador for a formal explanation.

Foreign Minister Adriana Hernández has described the death as ‘an unforgivable tragedy that requires immediate action.’ Mexico is expected to join international calls for reparations and security reforms in Ghana. Diplomatic relations remain tense as global scrutiny of the Ghanaian government’s response to this crisis intensifies.”

News Anchor on ORF:

“Austria is expressing outrage tonight after its Foreign Affairs Minister, Martin Farber, was gravely injured during the hostage crisis in Ghana. Foreign Minister Lena Schwarz has demanded an immediate explanation from the Ghanaian government, calling the situation a ‘failure of basic security protocols.’

Austria is reportedly working with the European Union to address these concerns collectively, with some EU officials suggesting possible travel warnings or sanctions. The Austrian delegate, whose identity remains confidential, is receiving medical treatment, and their condition is described as critical but stable. Ghana has yet to respond directly to Austria’s demands.”

President Kodwo Ansa-Obiaka was seated at his desk in the Flagstaff House, the weight of the international disgrace a gigantic load on his mind. His shoulders were slumped and his face pale with exhaustion.

The fallout with other countries had been massive. His failure to take any decisive actions had ruined his reputation among many world leaders, and many had promptly condemned and chastised his inactions. In addition to that, many citizens felt deeply slighted by the knowledge that the US army had to rescue the hostages and neutralize the Dead Eyes. Many saw him as a coward, opining that he should have stood his ground and protected the country’s sovereignty.

Safe to say, his approval ratings with the general public couldn’t be any lower than it had been in the past couple of years.

The secure line rang, and Vincent signaled that it was the French President, Étienne Lemoine.

Taking a deep breath and preparing for yet another upbraiding, Ansa-Obiaka picked up the phone.

“President Lemoine, good evening. I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me.”

Lemoine’s voice was cold and unfriendly. “Good evening, Mr. President. I wish I could say the feeling is mutual, but this conversation is long overdue.”

“President Lemoine, believe me, I deeply regret-“

“Regret does not bring back the lives lost, nor does it heal the injuries of my citizen who was caught in this debacle. Ghana’s failure to ensure the safety of visiting dignitaries is an international disgrace. How could this happen?”

“I take full responsibility for the delays in our security response. Please believe me, this was never—”

Lemoine interrupted sharply, “Responsibility? Words mean nothing without action, Mr. President. Do you realize how this reflects on Ghana? Theo is currently lying in a hospital bed, scarred for life. He says he never wants to return to Africa again. Others, the British journalist, the Mexican human rights lady, they are all dead. This is not a matter of regret. It is a matter of governance. Or, rather, the lack of it.”

Ansa-Obiaka swallowed hard. “We are already investigating the incident and will hold those responsible accountable. I assure you—”

“Assurances won’t suffice, Mr. President. I’m sorry. I’m calling to inform you that France will be reassessing its diplomatic ties and economic engagements with Ghana. Aid programs are already under review, and there will be a formal inquiry into this incident, with or without your government’s cooperation. I suggest you focus on making amends before this situation deteriorates further.”

“Mr. President, please—”

“Enough, Mr. President! The world is watching, and France will not be silent. Good NIGHT.”

The line went dead.

Ansa-Obiaka slowly lowered the receiver, his hand trembling. He leaned back in his chair, covering his face in utter humiliation. The Dead Eyes might have been quenched, but the devastation they had brought him was simply mind-blowing. His dream of international recognition, of being hailed as one of the greatest leaders in Africa, had turned into a nightmare. This hostage situation’s consequences were far-reaching, and he was under no illusions: his presidency would never recover from this. Both the citizenry and the global audience would never forget this tragedy, and his name would forever be linked to it.

“This cannot be happening,” he murmured tearfully. “Years of diplomacy, the summits, the speeches—all gone in a single moment of failure. This is how they’ll remember me: the president who let foreign blood spill on Ghanaian soil. The leader who couldn’t protect his own borders, let alone his guests. Kodwo Ansa-Obiaka, the face of incompetence.”

***

“This court has carefully considered the arguments presented by both counsel. The prosecution has provided sufficient grounds to oppose bail, citing the seriousness of the charges before this court: conspiracy to kidnap, kidnapping, and murder. These are grave offenses, which carry significant consequences under the law…”

The Sekondi District Court 2 was packed to capacity, with many looking to witness the beginning of this murder case. In the witness box, at the corner of the courtroom, stood the accused person.

Priscilla Bonsu. Also known as Lycipus.

After the botched attempt to escape from the US military, she found herself in the grips of the police. It had been a terrible couple of days, as she had lashed out several times at them, refusing to cooperate with them and spewing abuse at them every single chance she could get.

As she stood in court, having been charged with multiple counts of various offences, her worst nightmare was unfolding before her very eyes.

Getting charged by the state.

She glared at Justice Nyamekye as she went on.

“It is further noted that the accused poses a potential flight risk, given her recent attempts to evade arrest, and there is reasonable fear of interference with witnesses should she be granted bail. For these reasons, bail is denied. The accused is hereby remanded into police custody for a period of two weeks, after which the case will be reviewed.”

As the gallery murmured among themselves, Lycipus’ voice rang out. Harsh and biting.

“You think you’re so fucking righteous, don’t you? Sitting there in your fucking big chair, playing God with my fucking life! You stupid bitch!”

“Hey! Will you keep quiet!” one of the police officers barked at her as gasps echoed, the shock at her brazen disrespect apparent.

Unperturbed, Lycipus raged on.

“Fuck you all! This fucking system is a fucking joke! You’ll regret this. Mark my words, I’ll make you regret this!”

Gasps echoed in the room as three police officers immediately stepped forward. Lycipus’ defiance escalated into physical resistance as they grabbed her arms and began to drag her out.

“Get your filthy hands off me, you idiots! Fucking hypocrites, all of you! You haven’t seen anything yet!” she barked as she resisted in vain. Her voice grew shrill, echoing in the courtroom as she was pulled through the door.

The judge simply shook her head while the commotion in the courtroom buzzed on. “Such a disturbed human being,” she muttered to herself.

As the courtroom grew silent, she was ready to have the next case called when another sound stunned her and everyone into shock.

The sound of gunshots.

***

“Breaking news just in! An unexpected turn of events at the Sekondi Court Complex where moments ago, a confrontation ended in tragedy. Priscilla Bonsu, known by her alias Lycipus, the lone surviving member of the notorious terrorist group Dead Eyes, was killed in an exchange of gunfire.”

The news anchor on the television screen had the most sombre of looks on her face as she delivered this news. Watching from their hospital room, both in hospital gowns, and propped up in their beds while they recovered from their various injuries, Jacob and Thelma gasped in shock at the developing story.

“Priscilla Bonsu, charged with multiple counts of murder related to the recent hostage situation orchestrated by the Dead Eyes, was in court today for her first hearing. Bail was denied, and as she was being escorted out of the courtroom, chaos erupted.

“Initial reports confirm that Bonsu disarmed a police officer, shot and killed him before she herself was shot multiple times. She later succumbed to her injuries at the scene. This incident has left one officer dead and several others, including bystanders, injured.”

Jacob shook his head, shivers running down his spine. “Good God, that girl was evil,” he murmured. “I mean, they all were, but she… she was just another level altogether.”

Thelma nodded in agreement. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget those moments with her. The way she killed Miss Martinez. The way she ignored Mr Farber and shot him in the leg. Those gunshots when they were taking us out of the hall, the way she threatened to hit me with the gun… God, it was horrible. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to erase those memories. Ever.”

“Hmmm,” Jacob sighed as the report concluded with the image of the court complex, and the screen changed to another story. It still felt so surreal; to have been involved in this hostage crisis, literally watch people die before their very eyes, and find themselves at the mercy of demented and callous terrorists. A lot of therapy was needed once their physical wounds healed, that was for sure.

After a few moments of silence, Jacob turned to Thelma, his voice carrying a reflective tone. “I dunno, though. Sometimes, do you ever think… maybe we made her this way? Society, I mean. Could there have been more to her story than we think we know?”

Thelma turned to him, a furrow deepening between her brows, initially defensive. She shook her head. “No, Jacob. She chose her path. No one forced her to take lives or to terrorize innocent people. That was her choice.”

Jacob nodded. “I get that. I’m not saying she’s justified, obviously not. But… don’t you remember what she said?”

Turning over, her eyes glazed over as she recalled that moment from their captivity.

That spine-chilling monologue from Lycipus…

She nodded. “Mmmm. Yeah. She said she fought to make life better for herself, yet it didn’t work out. Her family struggling…”

“Yep,” Jacob agreed. “There was so much on her chest, and she let it all out right there. Calling her sweet really triggered her. Maybe that’s all she wanted to be, but life… just didn’t allow it.”

Thelma nodded again. “I remember now… I remember. Her voice was so cold and full of anger, but… thinking about it now, I feel there was this… sadness behind it. Like she was trapped by life. Like she had just given up and given in to her anger.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she stared at her husband. “Maybe… maybe she was more a product of a broken system than she was a born monster. Maybe… Ansa-Obiaka didn’t do enough to help those in the trenches. Maybe… you’re right.”

Jacob reached out, taking Thelma’s hand in his as they shared a moment of silent contemplation.

“She had no hope. She and her cronies, they had no hope,” Jacob murmured. “It doesn’t justify anything they did; they were still dead wrong to come and hurt innocent people. But… people without hope… they’ll do anything to satisfy their desires. We need to give our people hope, give them something to live for…”

In that moment, they came to the realization that the terrorist group that was the Dead Eyes were probably not some misguided and inherently evil youth, but youth whose hopelessness had led them down the wrong path and caused them to do evil. As condemnable as their actions were, they were also to be pitied.

“We can’t undo the past,” Jacob murmured. “But we can do something about the future. Honey, when we get out of here, let’s see if we can try and do our part. Maybe do some work to ensure our community becomes a place where hope isn’t a luxury but a given. Where no one feels abandoned to the trenches. We should never let this happen again.”

Thelma nodded. “Alright, honey. Let’s do it. Who knows? Maybe… just maybe… our efforts might help ensure there’s never a need for a terrorist group like this to ever rise again. Ever.”

THE END

That brings down the curtain on one pulsating political and psychological thriller! Yeah, a lack of hope can drive some people down the path of wickedness. Ultimately, while the Dead Eyes were no doubt awful terrorists with zero regard for human life, they were the products of hopelessness, and that’s something many societies must deal with.

Thanks for reading, and as always, continue to enjoy yourself around the State!