been able to get a replacement prosthesis yet, my leg needs amputation. So, that means I need your permission to start work tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?!"
"Yeah. So... Can we do it now?" he asked eagerly.
"We can do it now...", mumbled Awerkok and ran his fingers through his hair while turning to look at the doctor.
"I'll be in the hospital room", he stated, ignoring the puzzled looks that the two patients in front of him were currently sharing and turning away from them and heading back towards the door, "and I'll send someone up with your medical records", he added with another quick nod and a small smile as he disappeared out of the room without looking back.
"What a weird guy", commented the stranger in a low voice after the doctor had gone.
"I can't believe that he wants us to operate on him when he has his leg broken", replied the patient's girlfriend with a sigh, "it's really creepy".
"Do you think that he might be dangerous?" questioned the patient's son.
"That's definitely possible. If he really has broken his leg... Why not give him some morphine or something to help with the pain?", suggested the girl in a worried tone.
"There's nothing wrong with his leg", argued the patient.
"That'
s right", said the patient in a confident voice. "He has never suffered from any kind of spinal injury before. We can't just amputate his leg because he has been shot by one of his men".
"Then, maybe we should just wait until he recovers and then we can decide about the surgery once he is fully recovered", reasoned the girl.
"But how will we decide that once the wound heals?", countered the boy, "we only have limited supplies here and can't afford to waste too many".
The woman remained silent for a few seconds, looking deeply troubled.
"OK, okay, I'll do it", she finally agreed and stood up with a long yawn. "Let's go home", she suggested, "I'm tired".
She put her hand gently on her boyfriend's shoulder and turned away from his side to walk out of the room. The other man followed suit and exited the hospital room just after her. As soon as they passed through the doorway, Awerkok heard the door click shut, and his expression instantly turned cold.
"What the hell is he doing here?" he growled and glared at the empty chair. "He shouldn't be here! He has nothing to do with our case!" he muttered angrily to himself.
For a moment or two he didn't move. His breathing became uneven. The room felt warmer suddenly, as if all the heat and light was being sucked out of it. Suddenly, he jumped up and paced around the room, running his hand through his hair repeatedly. Then he finally stopped pacing, sat down on the bed and rubbed his face with both hands.
"Fuck," he muttered angrily through clenched teeth and turned his gaze towards the door. It didn't take long for him to remember about the person he still needed to deal with.
With a sigh of resignation, he stood up, crossed the room and opened the door. His steps slowed down for a second, before he started walking again.
The man in the room noticed him immediately. He straightened up from where he was seated on the chair and smiled brightly and happily.
"Drink?", he asked excitedly and held a bottle of whiskey towards the older man while gesturing towards the table with his head.
Aerkok didn't respond, however. Instead, he turned around and headed towards the door again without a word and went outside.
The younger man frowned confusedly. He stared blankly after the retreating figure, wondering what had just happened, before getting out of the chair and following him out.
The man in the wheelchair had already arrived at the bottom of the staircase