Lt. Clottey smiled at her. He understood how she was feeling. Gertrude Mensah made no attempt to stop the tears. They meandered down her cheeks and dropped on the squeaky clean tiled floor.
“I am sorry, Lieutenant. I am so sorry” she said repeatedly, apologizing to the soldier for nearly losing his life in his tango with Kruger. She had been rattled when she was told Lt. Clottey had been shot. And when she learnt he had been rushed to the hospital unconscious, she had feared the worse. She quickly told the Speaker of Parliament to fill in for her by hosting the visiting Russian Prime Minister at a state dinner organized in his honour while she dashes to the 37 Military Hospital to find out how Lt. Clottey was doing.
Ever since she saw the Lieutenant running towards the exit of the tarmac at the airport, she had been feeling vulnerable. Lt. Clottey had been like a shield for her. She felt vulnerable when she saw him leaving her side and running towards the Arrival and Departure Halls. She decided he must be doing so for a good reason but could not fathom what that reason was. She did not hear from him for the next thirty minutes as she took the Russian Prime Minister through the arrival formalities and then held their initial but brief talks at the VVIP lounge. The Premier, from the airport, would leave for the hotel where he would be based during his brief stay. Then he would have dinner with the Acting President at the Presidency. It was just after their brief initial talks that a member of the Rapid Redeployment Force (RRU) who was on duty at the airport and who eventually chased and captured Kruger came to tell her Lt. Clottey had been shot; the good news was that Kruger had been arrested.
That Lt. Clottey had been shot rattled her. She froze. Goose pimples immediately appeared all over her body.
“Is he dead?” she had asked fearfully. She was assured that the lieutenant was fine. She decided she must go to him immediately. She instructed three members of the Rapid Response United (RRU) to accompany her to the 37Military Hospital; she reckoned that once they had been the ones to capture Kruger, they could not be part of Rex Yamoah’s gang who were trying to assassinate her.
She arrived at the 37Military hospital with the three RRU soldiers and now was with Lt. Clottey. Her heart had leaped with joy when she saw that he was alive. Now alone with him, she could not hold back the tears any longer.
“Madam, please do not worry about me. I would be fine. What happened to me is an occupational hazard. Kruger has been arrested but we have the Deputy Coordinator still to deal with. Once he is still at large, you are not safe. Lt. Badoo said he and his boys have combed the entire city for him but cannot find him. He seems to have vanished from the surface of the earth” Lt. Clottey opined.
“Yes, I heard that my friend has been captured. However, he would not talk. But tell me, why did you suddenly run off at the airport? Where did you go?” the Acting President asked, still holding the soldier’s hand.
The lieutenant explained to her why he took off, to where and what happened. The Acting President stared at the soldier, shocked. She realized that she had come close to being assassinated again and again, Lt. Clottey who had saved her.
“Thank you”, she whispered through her tears. The day was going to be one she would never forget, surviving four assassination attempts. She was sure no politician or world leader has had to survive this many attempts on his or her life in just one day.
Just then, the door opened and a man, apparently a doctor, came in. He had a stethoscope around his neck. He smiled at Lt. Clottey and greeted the Acting President. Lt. Clottey smiled back but he felt something odd about the man though he could not place his hand on it. He observed that when the doctor entered the room, he turned the key in the lock. He found that strange.
Gertrude Mensah let go of the soldier’s hand, surprised at the intrusion. She had made it clear she wanted to be alone with Lt. Clottey so she did not expect her orders to be disobeyed. Yet, that was just what had happened.
The doctor had in his hand a small vial. He took a syringe from his pocket and fixed a hypodermic needle to it. Then he stuck the needle into a vial to fill the syringe with the medicine in it.
“I have to give you this injection now. It will help your wound to heal faster,” he said. Then he came closer to the soldier and asked him to turn over for the injection.
“I prefer the shot in my arm,” Lt Clottey said.
“Well, that is okay. Unbutton your shirt and pull it down. It will be over in seconds,” the doctor said. Lt. Clottey stretched forth his left arm, wincing from the pain of the wound as a result. The doctor drew closer, cleaned the spot he was going to inject with a wet cotton wool and was about to stick the needle there when Lt. Clottey grabbed his hand.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Who am I?” the doctor replied. “I am Dr. Morrison, the medical doctor in charge. I have to…”