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electricity box and hit his head on a metal handle. The hospital receptionist told him his account had been settled by the gentleman who had just left and he smiled. Kevin was still taking care of him. He put on his cap and walked to the exit.
    Dr Abdul shook Amina’s hand and showed her into the hospital lounge where Masondo was already waiting. The operational head wrung his hands together nervously and she noticed he’d aged considerably since she’d last seen him. She knew the strength of Masondo’s bond with Durant. Durant had mentioned it to her only once, soon after she started in the Agency. He was a medic in the Angolan bush war, a young national serviceman thrust into an adult world totally unprepared. The older Masondo lay injured, an enemy soldier who believed in the war and what it represented. Durant had shown compassion and treated the combatant, hardly realising that a few years later Masondo and he would be in the same Agency in a new and free South Africa. Durant had probably saved Masondo’s life, but that wasn’t the miracle. Amina knew that the epiphany that these two men had was that there was hope for the future, even in the darkest of places. That two enemies could meet on a battlefield, both reluctant but compelled to be there, and then later end up serving together in a united country and fighting for a common goal was the miracle. Durant and Masondo were close. The relationships forged on a battlefield were impenetrable and Amina felt Masondo’s distress, the pain of a soldier losing a comrade.
    Doctor Abdul sighed and pursed his lips against his thumb thoughtfully. ‘Good people, let me explain the situation to you. It’s very serious.’ He took his glasses off and began cleaning them on his white coat. ‘Four bullets in the back is usually fatal because the wound path is so massive. Tissue’s stretched, displaced and penetrated, and you can imagine the shock to the body.’ The doctor’s eye began to twitch and he seemed conscious of it. ‘The lungs and bowel walls can tolerate stretching to a degree but solid tissue like the liver can’t. Of course, the liver is also a waste organ, full of toxins, and septic shock can set in very quickly. He had massive blood loss from his liver because it’s a very venous organ.’ The doctor seemed more comfortable speaking in medical terms rather than at an emotional level and the twitching eye had settled down. This wasn’t helping Masondo form a picture of whether Durant would live or die and that was all he needed to know.
    ‘Is the damage life-threatening, Doctor? Make your answer a yes or no.’
    ‘As I see it, two things have kept Mr Durant alive so far. Firstly, the fact that an emergency response vehicle got to him within two minutes was crucial to his survival. He would have bled out in five, no doubt about it. The paramedics were able to put bilateral lines up very quickly and a drain in his chest prevented a tension pneumothorax from killing him at the scene.’
    ‘What was the second thing?’ Amina asked because the medical explanations were hard for her to hear.
    Dr Abdul smiled. ‘It’s not as textbook as the first. I think it was his response to being shot. He didn’t surrender to death; I think his response at that moment was anger and resistance, not defeat. It sounds strange, but sometimes when people have traumatic wounds, they assume they should die, and then they do. But others respond the opposite way. Against all odds, they want to survive and they usually do. The survival instinct and a strong will can keep you alive when even the laws of physics and biology are against you.’
    Masondo nodded thoughtfully. ‘So it’s not all bad news, is it?’
    Amina agreed. ‘Sounds like you’re hopeful, Doctor.’
    The doctor’s face reflected caution. ‘I hope I haven’t given you false expectations. Make no mistake, he is still critical. We’ll only know for certain the full amount of damage after a week or