Cyril dashed out of the office without a moment's hesitation, not bothering to alert Bobby or the guards.
They trailed behind him as he opened the golden door unassisted.
As he stepped out of his office, his heart pounded.
He surveyed the entire area but was unable to locate Maryann.
He turned back to the guard and inquired intently, "Where is she?"
"Your Excellency, we rushed her to the sickbay at the headquarters," the guard replied.
Cyril's eyes reddened with anger as he glared at the guard.
He didn't want to make it obvious; he would have fired him on the spot, but he had to maintain his composure.
Cyril, silent and unhesitating, dashed out of the main building of the White House, with ten bodyguards swiftly
trailing him.
Bobby, following suit, tapped his earpiece and bellowed, "Send backup now! Guard the arena! Secure the entire area immediately! The President is en route to the headquarters. Protect him at all costs!" With that, Bobby charged ahead, racing to catch up with the President.
Bobby hurried behind Cyril and the guards, glancing at his wristwatch.
As they exited the main building of the White House, additional guards emerged from various corners, trailing behind the President, who was sprinting towards the headquarters.
As Cyril dashed toward the headquarters, his attire did not hinder his speed.
He walked past the cottage, and the workers, who were busy outside, bowed and chorused in unison.
"Welcome your excellency!"
Yet Cyril disregarded the workers and their greetings, not even sparing a glance.
Cyril burst into the sickbay, causing all the medical practitioners to pause and stand at attention, their faces downcast as he walked in.
Bobby and thirty guards surrounded Cyril, clearing a path for him to walk through without any hindrances.
Bobby tapped his earpiece once more and inquired, "Which room is she in?"
After a brief pause, he replied, "Okay," and proceeded past the guards to approach Cyril, stating, "Your Excellency, she is in room four zero four."
Cyril neither responded nor paid attention to the person speaking to him or his surroundings.
Cyril ascended the stairs, taking two at a time.
Bobby and the guards continued to follow him relentlessly.
Bobby tapped his earpiece once more. "Room four zero four! I repeat, room four zero four! Secure the arena!
Secure the arena! Ensure safety! The President is near! The President is near!" he ordered loudly.
Some guards bypassed Cyril and joined those in front; they reached the stair's end and hurried down the hallway.
Upon spotting the room, they dashed towards it and flung it open, eagerly searching every nook and cranny.
The room featured four windows and a single ER hospital bed to the side, with two guards stationed at each window, totaling eight guards.
Two guards were stationed inside the entrance door, while another two stood guard outside the entrance door.
The doctor and the two nurses attending to Maryann stood at attention when the bodyguards entered the room.
Cyril walked into the room, his face contorted with anger upon seeing Maryann lying on the ER bed, an oxygen tube draped across her face.
He approached the bed where Maryann lay still.
Maryann lay helplessly and unconsciously on the bed, her nylon dress torn, exposing her skin, her baggy shorts had splashes of mud and dirt, her forehead sweaty, her skin pale and wet, her hair messy.
Upon Cyril's arrival, the doctor and nurses bowed and stood at attention.
Cyril looked at Maryann with sympathy as she lay on the ER hospital bed.
His expression turned to one of sadness and one of regret, his body stilled, and his eyes brimmed with anger.
"What is wrong with her?" Cyril inquired, his voice deep with concern.
The doctor bowed his head respectfully before replying, "Your Excellency, the cold has penetrated her lungs, causing difficulty in breathing. Additionally, she is suffering from a severe stomach upset due to an infection from contaminated food. The cane lashes on her skin elevated her body temperature, resulting in fever and nausea."
Cyril didn't turn to look at the doctor; instead, he stared blankly at Maryann and asked, "How long will she be in a coma?"
"I'm so sorry, Your Excellency, we don't know yet. It depends on how her immune system responds and combats the bacteria for her body to accept the medication," the doctor said, bowing.
Cyril slowly turned his head to the side to face the doctor, his eyes reddening with anger. "Why did I employ you?" he drawled deeply.
The doctor bowed "Your Excellency..."
Cyril cut him short. "If you want to protect your life and your job, I. Am. Going. To. Ask. You. For the very last time. How long will she be in coma?"
The doctor knelt down immediately in fear.
"Tw…..tw….two to….three days, not really predictable, Your Excellency" The doctor stammered as he trembled.
Cyril gazed back at Maryann, his eyes brimming with a mix of anger, regret, sadness, and guilt.
Cyril exited the room. Bobby bowed to him at the doorway as he stepped out.
"Transfer her to the Presidential sickbay and fire that doctor," Cyril commanded in a cold, calm, and quiet tone as he exited.
Ten guards trailed behind him, three to his left, three to his right, and four leading the way, escorting him down the stairs and out of the sickbay.
Bobby and nine guards lagged behind to carry out the President's orders.
❤️🧡💜💙💛
Cyril organized an impromptu meeting the day following his visit to the headquarters' sickbay.
Directing all VIP members to attend.
They arrived and took their seats, each pondering the reason behind the board meeting's abrupt convening and the nature of the issue at hand.
Cyril entered through the golden door, flanked by his bodyguards and soldiers.
He was attired in gray baggy cargo pants, a white t-shirt, and white sneakers that complemented his physique.
His hair was styled in box braids and secured at the back with a hairband.
Upon Cyril's entrance, every board member rose and bowed simultaneously.
Cyril disregarded them, sliding both hands into his pants pockets as he strode quickly to the head of the table and took a seat.
Bobby positioned himself behind Cyril, flanked by five bodyguards, as the remaining guards and soldiers encircled the entire room.
The room fell into silence as all eyes turned to Cyril in astonishment.
Chaotic whispers engulfed the room as soon as Cyril gave the order;
"The PBP will occur in three days!"