Rebirth: President Fatah Escapes 50 Movemen

The sun had risen. I found it surprising and rather annoying how quickly the moved pa.s.sed my needs. I'd fallen asleep on the phone with Aina, I couldn't help the grin that crawled onto my face; the call was still going on.

I picked up the phone and listened closely, I couldn't hear her snores or anything of the sort, maybe she didn't snore? I whispered her name lightly into the phone, listening if my voice transmitted kilometres away was loud enough to get her to stir.

Nothing.

If she was awake; I didn't have much means of finding out. Perhaps her phone currently lay on her kitchen counter whilst she cooked, or in her bag as she journeyed to her workplace.

She might have gone through this exact train of thought with me had she woken up earlier. I didn't know what to do really. Should I end the call? Keep it going whilst periodically checking in on it? What if she had other calls coming in? I'd be getting in the way.

I shook my head and ended the call, instead, quickly sending a text of thanks and appreciation. Not a lot of adult would let a teen dictator fall asleep on a call with them, but more importantly, for distracting me, for letting me vent, for letting me hate myself and then showing me the love I didn't think I deserved anyway.

Now the sun had risen and the tragedy of yesterday hadn't been solved by a miracle overnight, Luciano and others still lay unconscious I the med bay, and I didn't know when he or if he was going to wake up at all.

I had a quick shower and stepped out in my cla.s.sic tight fitted suit and tie with the difference of a gun holster attached, the head of my security detail had informed me that there was a good chance that foul play was involved and I could be the intended target of the attack.

Aside from the Malagasy, I didn't know who else held much hatred towards me. Well, not that I couldn't come up with a few names, including but not limited to the families of the Chief's I'd executed without trial. There also lied gullible citizens that believed the vile preachings of the Malagasy against me and with their sufferings and desires for a better life, a few thousand dollars could make many citizens commit treason.

Even with a part of the RDOS (Rapid Development of Schelar) in progress, Schelar had fifteen million people to a.s.sign well-paying and productive jobs that take them over the poverty line and bring the country's GDP per capita (Gross Domestic Product per Capita) to a truly acceptable level.

Point is, there were several million people still suffering under the boots of poverty and there was no presidential speech of hope that would make them feel any better, what they needed was action, and until they got that action, they were potential initiates for radical groups or spies for external governments.

The good news was; I knew those that were loyal to a fault to my rule. I knew who to trust.

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As I approached the med bay I was greeted by one of my cousins, Alex. He wore his standard military garb and held his cap in his hand as he gave a salute.

"At ease," I order, "What are you doing here, General?" I ask as the door is pushed open for me by one of my guards.

"My brother, Maxime was caught in the explosion, I am here to check up on him, sir."

"I am terribly sorry about that, Alex. I'm here to see Luciano but I will have to stop by and check up on him as well." I truly felt sorry for Alex, if he felt anything like what I'd felt yesterday then there was no doubt it was a sorry event.

"Perhaps I should have Loup come in as well," I thought out loud, I'd driven Loup away from the base here but his brother was in the ICU fighting for his life, just like Luciano was, it would be too cruel of me to have him stay away, "Yes, have him come see Maxime."

"Thank you, sir."

As I approached the reception counter, the nurse seated flew from her seat and performed a rather awkward salute-bow. I let myself smile for her sake and let her direct me to the room I was obviously here for.

As we make our way in and my guards disperse to secure the area, I notice Alex was still tagging along behind me. Had I not dismissed him? I tuck the thought away as I finally set my eyes on Luciano.

"I'll go get the doctor, sir." The nurse murmured as she hurriedly left the room.

Luciano lay on the bed, as unmoving as he was in the operating room. Though I could see his chest move up and down periodically as he took in oxygen from the mask they placed over his face.

I hadn't noticed before but a lot of his hair on his left side had been burnt away, now he looked strange with the right side of his body contrasting heavily with his bandaged left. He looked like a real-life Two-Face from the DC universe.

I let myself smile as I thought of the chided he would give me if he was awake to hear my summary of his looks.

"Mister President,"

I turn to see a man, much shorter than I in a lab coat with a stethoscope around his neck. The doctor had finally arrived.

"I am general Luciano's doctor, It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Again I strain a smile but my faux amus.e.m.e.nt doesn't last long though, "How is he, Doctor?"

The stout man bypa.s.ses me to get to the bed. He picks up the clipboard set behind the bed and looks through it.

"Well he has been badly burned on the left side of his body and will need to be flown out for a proper skin grafting, he had a lot of shrapnel pierce through him and some organs, his lungs especially are barely holding together. After a few surgeries abroad he should be fine."

"And his arm?" I ask

"Well…"

I nod, there was no getting that back. The doctor mutters some things about great strides being made in prosthetics but it all sounded like something that would only depress Luciano more.

"Thank you, Doctor, you can leave now."

At my dismissal, the man didn't hesitate to step out and let me take a seat beside Luciano.

But still, there was a presence not meant to be in here with me.

"What do you want, Alex?" I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation.

He straightens up, standing at attention again.

"Sir, I am also here to inform you that it is the eleventh day into our two-week deadline for the men in the Malagasy army. They have communicated a desire for an extraction, Sir.

"Didn't I put you in charge of that operation? Why are you pestering me about it all now?"

"Well, sir, they are en route as we speak, in a stolen an armoured vehicle and have an injured teammate. Needless to say, the Malagasy aren't too pleased to see them…walk away. They are pus.h.i.+ng on the offensive, sir."