Hey guys, this is my first story up on this site, so please read and review! I thought it would be cool to do a story about Adel's experiences in Africa, and this story takes place one year after TC:UTK2. I think I've got a good thing going, and I hope you enjoy!
Africa
Costigar
Camp Zakara
Dr. Adel Tulba looked down at his watch. His last patient of the day had just left, and he was exhausted. Not the kind of exhausted you get after a long work-out session, but the kind you get after arguing with a loved one all night, a feeling which Adel knew too well. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, now wasn't the time to dwell on the past. After tidying up his office a little bit, Adel lifted the tent's flap and walked outside. He was tired and hungry, and thinking about taking a trip to the mess hall to pick up some food. Hot dogs, that was today's meal. Adel had heard a lot of doctors from around the country complain about the food in their own camps, but as far as his camp, Zakara, went, the food was pretty good. That was because the cook, Ramon, cared about what he did, even if it was just preparing meals. Adel walked past various tents until he arrived at the mess hall, a larger tent that could probably hold about fifty or so people. He walked through the door (door was too generous of a word, all of the entrances to the tents in Zakara were simply flaps that you could raise to gain entrance) and looked around.
The mess hall wasn't very full at all, maybe fifteen or so people scattered around in different groups at different tables. Most of them were military personnel, assigned to the camp for protection, but Adel recognized some office workers as well. At the far end of the room was the kitchen and serving area, and Adel observed that Ramon and his assistants were casually working. Adel walked past the tables and up to the muscular, dark-skinned Cuban man watching his assistants idly. "Buenos Tardes, Ramon!" Adel exclaimed. Ramon turned around and grinned, "¿Por qué insiste usted en siempre es tan desagradable como posible, asshole?" Adel chuckled at this reply, "I only caught the end of that sentence, but I hope you were kidding, hijo de puta!"
"Tu madre es gata y fea!"
"Tu madre es una puta!"
Ramon let out a loud hearty laugh at this. "Your Spanish is coming along well, medico!" Adel smiled, "I did learn from the best obscene Spanish speaker in the whole country!" Ramon gave Adel a puzzled look, "¿Quién, tu madre?"
Adel rolled his eyes and then looked at Ramon. "Speaking of your mom, I'm pretty hungry right now, anything left?" Ramon turned around and came back with a plate on which four hot dogs resided. "Last of the day, amigo, I thought you would never get out of work, you were busy all day. Oh, and by the way, your fine female friend was looking for you awhile ago. Ah, look at that, she just walked in. Una amiga caliente!" Adel, turned around, half of a hot dog being chewed. Sylvia Warenburg, one of the camp's counselors. A tan, brown haired women in her mid-twenties, she was a "favorite" among her patients, and Adel could see just why. Ramon was right, very hot. Adel swallowed the hot dog as Sylvia walked over to him, a concerned look on her face. "Dr. Tulba, please put down those hot dogs and come with me, do you remember a patient who you treated a few days ago, the one with the stomach ulcer?" Adel did remember, the patient was a soldier in the RCM, The Republic of Costigar Military. He came in complaining about stomach pains during the night, excessive vomiting, and blood in his stool. After a few tests, Adel had come to the conclusion that the man had a stomach ulcer. It was most likely caused by the man's excessive alcohol consumption, as well as his improper diet and the weight of stress, both factors of the war going on. He prescribed the man some antibiotics, and the soldier went on his way, Sylvia was assigned to the man to help him recover from his alcohol problem. Sylvia wasn't specifically trained to deal with these kinds of patients, but they were short on personnel and she was better than anybody.
"Yes, I do remember that patient, what's the significance?" Adel asked. Sylvia sighed, "I'm not too sure, he just wanted to see you for some reason, so I had to come find you. Took me awhile, geez, your all over the camp!" She smiled. Adel knew she had to be joking; the only places he really went were his office, the OR next to his office, the mess hall, and his quarters. A few of the other doctors had told Adel to lighten up and come with them to the bar after work sometime, but Adel always politely declined, he was dedicated to his work. "Well, the patient's over at my office, waiting for us. Now again, put down the food and let's go." Sylvia turned and walked away, but before leaving to follow her, Adel grabbed another hot dog and stuffed it into his lab coat. He glanced back at Ramon, who simply raised his hand in a parting gesture. Adel did the same, then walked outside.
Sylvia led Adel outside and through the many refugees, faculty, and tents of the camp to her office. They paused outside the entrance for a moment, and Adel took this time to ask the question that had been gnawing at his mind. "Sylvia, what is this about? He should be fine, he was treated well, and I'm sure you have been taking great care of him." Sylvia looked grim. "Doctor, I wish I could answer that question. He was fine, treatment was going well, and then, out of the blue, he requested to see you. I have no better idea then you do. Now come on." Sylvia lifted the flap and walked through. Sylvia's office was the standard fare, some cabinets, a desk with a computer and some folders, and a few patient chairs. The patient was sitting in one of them, and looked like he was occupied with something in his lap. The two of them walked over, and Adel couldn't believe it. Sylvia shrieked. The soldier was slumped in his chair, blood running down the front of his body. His face was frozen in an expression of shock, but his eyes were empty. He was dead.