The assassination of Ian Sackey cast a dark shadow over the top brass of the security assembled in the VVIP with the Acting President and the Russian Ambassador. It had really rattled them.
Ian Sackey was a person they revered so much because he was a very shrewd strategist as far as security and intelligence was concerned. He gave the state and the government the stability that had made Ghana a role model for most African countries. He had been at his post for almost seventeen years and had served three Presidents. Gertrude Mensah was going to be the fourth President he was going to serve. None of the Presidents since he got the appointment was interested in replacing him because he was the ultimate professional, a patriot whose concern was for state security and regime security no matter who or which party was in power.
The room was quiet. Only the Acting President and the Russian Ambassador seemed to be engaged in some kind of conversation as they waited for the Russian Prime Minister to arrive. Lt. Clottey, standing akimbo a few feet away knew the security capos in the room had no knowledge that the one who has gotten the National Security Coordinator assassinated is the Deputy National Security Coordinator, Rex Yamoah. He could imagine what their reaction would be if they found out.
He looked through the window. Outside, everything seemed calm. However, his instinct continued to tell him there was trouble afoot. He wondered if an attempt would be made to assassinate the Acting President at the airport. He decided it was unlikely; Rex Yamoah would be smart enough to know doing that at a time an international visitor was around, compromising that person’s security, would not be in his interest.
He decided to step outside and observe the atmosphere. He was confronted by the heat of the sun when he did. He looked to his right and saw journalists gathered there, obviously waiting for the Russian Prime Minister to arrive. They had been assembled behind a temporary fence. Soldiers and policemen and women stood at vantage points all over. He stepped back into the VVIP. The Acting President was leafing through a magazine. She looked relaxed. He could again not help but marvelled at the fact that though she had been through so much earlier that morning, surviving three assassination attempts by whiskers, she was as calm as a river. Just then, someone tapped on the door and opened it.
“Please, the Prime Minister has arrived. His plane just landed” the man who tapped on the door, the Managing Director of the airport, announced. Everyone in the room got up. Lt. Clottey opened the door for the Acting President. She thanked him as she walked past him, stepping out of the room. The rest followed him out. Outside, the Russian Jet was taxing to a stop.
Gertrude Mensah and the Russian Ambassador started walking towards the red carpet that had been rolled on the tarmac for the august visitor. A number of Ministers of state who had been waiting in another room and had now also come out followed behind. Lt. Clottey saw the Ministers of the Interior, Trade and Education, following the Acting President to welcome the Russia Number Two man.
The plane came to a stop. Lt. Clottey, looking around, realized security had been stepped up everywhere. He was sure in such an environment, Rex Yamoah would not dare operate.
A few minutes later, the doors of the plane opened; Dmitry Medvedev stepped out. He waved to a crowd of school children to his right who were cheering him while waving Ghana and Russian flags. Then he came down the stairs. Gertrude Mensah and the Russian Ambassador walked closer to the foot of the stairs. Meanwhile, a little girl emerged amidst the cheering school children, carrying a bouquet of flowers. The little girl was dressed in kente clothes with her neck and wrist adorned with beads. It was the usual Ghanaian way of welcoming VVIPs. But it was the way some chose to assassinate Ghana’s first President, Osagyefo Dr. Kwame Nkrumah at Kulungugu in 1958 Lt. Clotty quickly sensed danger. Had a bomb been hidden in the bouquet of flowers and given to the little girl as happened at Kulungugu? He thought he could hear the sound of a clock ticking.
“A time bomb!” he thought, sensing danger. How long before would it explode? He did not know whether to raise the alarm so they all ran for it or he should walk to the little girl, collect the flowers from her and run with it and throw it far away. Sweat broke out all over his body.