VANGUARD(36)

“I have chosen, Commandant. You will mark me.”

Jaros grinned. “As I knew I would.”

She faced him, her knees trembling. Jaros’ guards and her two omnipresent Soviet soldiers stood behind the Commandant, weapons drawn. The knife came up between her eyes.

Michael would never forgive himself, she knew. He’d live for the rest of his life knowing that Sophie had been mutilated because of events he himself had set in motion. It would tear them apart. In saving him, she’d lose him forever.

But she had no choice. She loved him, would never love anyone else the same way. She’d spent the last ten years trying to find someone who could take his place, and no one had even come close. If she bought Michael’s life with this act, then it would be worth it. She would have her work, and Michael would have his life. But she still had one card left to play.

The knife tip settled in the center of her forehead. The Commandant’s face hovered directly in front of hers, and she could see the madness gleaming in his eyes. The knife pierced the thin layer of skin and flesh. Jaros dragged the knife diagonally, carving the line of the hammer. She could actually hear the blade scraping against her bone. Two things happened right away.

First, she screamed at the white-hot line of fire blazing across her forehead. Not just because it hurt, but because she believed it might save her life. With the Commandant blocking her view and blood dripping down into her eyes, Sophie heard, rather than saw, the second thing happen. Every safety in the room clicked off, and all the guns aimed. But not at her. Not at her, she knew it.

At the Commandant.

“Commandant. No,” came a rough voice in Russian from behind Jaros. One of the guards.

One of her guards. Young men, raised in a time when Soviet culture was working to elevate the rights and status of its women.

Cultural revolution.

“Please, you must stop. You dishonor the Soviet Republic with this act. Our new laws.” For a moment, everything went silent. Sophie’s forehead blazed with agony. Then she heard the knife clatter down to the desktop.

“Go. Leave this camp, do not return.” Jaros released her, stepping away. “Your guards will accompany you to ensure the patient returns to the camp, dead or alive.”

Sophie spun around dizzily, grabbing her bag and laptop. She used her scarf to wipe away the blood pouring down her nose and cheeks, then tied it clumsily over the wound. Her guards took her by the shoulders and moved her toward the door.

“Wait,” Jaros said. They stopped.

“You knew this would happen. You planned this.”

“Yes.”

“We are more alike than you realize, Sophie.”

She smiled, drunk with pain. “God, I hope so, Commandant.”

They dragged her from the room.





Chapter 8





Anjali and her team had Michael out of the Jeep and onto a gurney in record time. On the wild ride back to base camp, Will wouldn’t tell her what had happened inside the administrative building. His face was bone white, eyes dark with unspoken horror as he helped get Michael inside. The patient started seizing just as they entered the infirmary.

“Get him on his side,” Anjali said to Meha, who had appeared out of nowhere, masked and gloved. She touched him and hissed.

“Probable febrile seizure,” Meha said. “He’s burning up.” She positioned and supported him until the seizure ended, then took his temperature, gasping as she read the result. “107.2.” Below the point where brain damage became imminent, but way too close for comfort. They moved quickly to get Michael moved on to a table.

“We need to get the fever down, fast,” Anjali said. “Ideas, anyone?”

A commotion at the door interrupted them. She spun to see two Soviet soldiers enter the infirmary with Sophie hanging between them. Both men looked at Anjali with trepidation. Will made a sound in his throat.

“Sophie,” he whispered.

Her head came up, and the blood-soaked scarf slipped to the floor. With a sigh of relief, the team turned back to the real medical emergency. Sophie had an ugly diagonal gash on her forehead, about an inch and a half long. Like any wound to the forehead, it was bleeding profusely, making it look more serious than it was. A few stitches and antiseptic would do the job.

“How?” Will stared at her incredulously.

“Always know the customs of the country you are entering. It creates an atmosphere of goodwill and respect from the start.” The nonsensical words slurred on Sophie’s tongue. “I resign my leadership of the coalition. Tell the Rev…” Her eyes rolled back, and she went limp in the hands of the guards. The two men took her to the nearest bed and laid her down carefully. They moved back to the door, their eyes never leaving Anjali. One of them spoke.