VANGUARD(20)

Sophie’s sanity might not survive if Michael didn’t make it home.

“I’ve still never met him,” Will said quietly. “After all these years. I feel like I know so much about him, but our paths have never crossed.”

“The universe conspires to keep you two apart, I’m convinced,” said Anjali. That Michael and Will had never met was a running joke, although Will was pretty sure Sophie had engineered a few of their near misses over the years. To introduce Michael to Will represented a level of commitment that she hadn’t seemed comfortable with. “Even I’ve met him.”

Her husband pulled back in surprise. “You have? When? Where?”

“Haven’t I ever told you?” Anjali’s brow puckered in thought. “In 2006, I think. I was representing Médecins Sans Frontières at a career fair at Harvard between field assignments. He came by my booth and introduced himself, said he was interested in doing some development work after he got his MD and before he started practicing. We talked for a while. Very intense, very idealistic.”

“I can’t believe you remember him.”

“You don’t forget a guy like Vanguard.” She traced circles on Will’s inner arm. “He’s compelling. Just as intense as Sophie – and you know how intense she is. Plus he’s smoking hot.” He could feel her grinning against his neck, and knew she was trying to get a rise out of him. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“Will,” Anjali whispered, “do you think he’s alive?”

He let out a long sigh against her neck. He told Sophie on a daily basis that he thought Michael was alive. Here with Anjali, he could qualify his optimism.

“Let’s put it this way,” he said. “If it were anyone else, I’d say it’s a million-to-one shot that we find him alive. But Vanguard went through the same program that Sophie did.”

Anjali looked at him curiously. “GYL? You think that will make the difference?”

“If I hadn’t met Sophie near the beginning of her GYL year and seen the impact it had on her afterward, I never would have believed it myself. Look at everything she’s accomplished in her short career. She’s carried that experience with her every step of the way.” He looked over at his protégé’s sleeping form a few rows up. “Vanguard is GYL too. He’s got that same experience. Maybe it’ll give him the edge to survive.

“God help her if it doesn’t.”





-





They landed in Kaliningrad, the westernmost city in the Soviet Republic, around midday. Unloading began immediately. The strike team commandeered a three-star hotel until they could set up their own base closer to Parnaas. Snow lay on the ground, dirty drifts against buildings, icy sidewalks, damp wind.

The next day, the Rev and Sophie visited the Soviet ministry for foreign affairs. Everybody exchanged greetings. Sophie received many effusive compliments on her mastery of the Russian language, and nothing else happened. They repeated the same process the next day. And the next. It was all part of the diplomatic dance. While the Rev and Sophie kicked their heels at the government office, the team secured vehicles, connected with local aid agencies that would supply most of the labor in the base camp, gathered intelligence, and hired local translators and guards.

On the fourth visit, they made progress.

“The Commandant of the Parnaas camp is willing to receive you,” the Soviet envoy said with a thin smile. “Only Mr. Bryson and Ms. Swenda to begin with. The remainder of your party can follow in a day or two if the Commandant permits.”

Nobody loved the idea of the two coalition leaders walking into the refugee camp alone, but they had little choice. By this point, Sophie would have crawled the entire distance, and the Rev felt the same way.





-





January 31, 2014





“You ready for this, Sophie?” asked the Rev as they climbed into the SUV. Coalition symbols marked the sides and roof. They both wore flak jackets and helmets.

“Damn right.” Sophie grinned at him as he gunned the engine. Both their translator and armed guard took the backseat, where they conversed in low voices in Russian. Dave did his own driving, and Sophie loved him for that. She appreciated him even more when she realized that the drivers in this region were more aggressive than New York cabbies.